“Family Meeting!” I yelled as I entered the door to the house, barely holding my anger in place.

  There was no more time to lose. With Sophie moving, more than likely the other major actors have taken notice as well. If I’d learned anything from Lilith’s teachings, it’s to pay attention to the motion of Fate. We all have a deep and profound awareness of when our life is changing. I just seem to be able to notice them a bit clearer than most.

  At the thought of Lilith, I momentarily froze; I’m missing something. Best to review the facts with the family and see if anything stands out.

  As all the children filed into the room, with Aurora following shortly behind, I began the important meeting in earnest.

  “We no longer have the luxury of time on our side,” I said with a look of urgency.

  “I know you all remember the Air Force Base down by the gulf, the one controlled by the merchant groups. The identity of their leader Sophronia is the current head of the Illuminati.”

  “The freakin Illuminati now? Are you kidding me?” voiced Margo aloud; hands on the sides of her head. “What is happening!”

  I nodded, wholeheartedly agreeing, but continued nonetheless.

  “They controlled access to more resources than any other camp combined. As you remember, well some of you, the Air Force Base and thereby the entire Merchant’s Guild were destroyed in a civil war.

  The person who controls the United States branch, Jonathan Smith, just approached your mother. We took him in towards the end of the Sixth Wave.

  “I remember that guy,” said Maeve. “He always kept his face covered; blonde hair, big scar?”

  “Yeah, that’s the guy,” I spoke. “If the Illuminati starts to move, then others will too. Our resources are growing too fast, I wasn’t diligent enough in my secrecy.”

  “Pack up everything, I’ll have movers here within three hours. We’re moving to the compound now,” I told everyone as they started to scatter to leave their childhood rooms.

  “I’ll need to be left alone the rest of the night,” I said turning to Aurora. “Things have gotten dangerous and it’s time that I moved on to more advanced methods.”

  Cycling my mana, I focused on the skill that had become my greatest asset near the end of the last timeline. An Archon tier ability that had evolved from a humble beginning into something that defied comprehension; a skill that with proper mastery, could have single-handedly turned the tide of our final battle.

  Mind Palace [Archon Tier]

  Construct a personalized inner mental dimension. The User manifests their desires using their mana and imagination as a base.

  The larger the mana pool, the larger the space.

  Time Dilation Ratio = 5 hours internal time is equal to 1 external hour

  I closed my eyes and immersed myself in the familiar sensation of mana gathering at the center of my consciousness. The first time I’d attempted this skill in the previous timeline, exhausted and desperate after Aurora’s death, I’d only managed to create a mental space the size of a garden shed; four cramped walls with a dirt floor and the faintest impression of a ceiling that threatened to collapse under the weight of my own doubts. But even then, in that confined space barely larger than a closet, I’d glimpsed the potential…my potential.

  Five hours of work for every hour that passed in the real world. A sanctuary where I could experiment without risking lives, where failure carried no permanent consequences. A place that allowed me to store my Contracts, along with their shared memories and abilities, in a simple rolodex.

  As my power grew, so too did the Mind Palace. The shed expanded into a small room, then a house, then a neighborhood; all the way up till my Infinite Spire. The dirt floor became polished marble, then grass, then whatever surface I required. The walls transformed from crude mental sketches into perfect replicas of places I’d known, then into landscapes I’d never seen but could imagine with crystal clarity.

  By the end of the previous timeline, just before our final battle with Joshua, it had become vast enough to contain an entire tactical training ground. I’d used it primarily for intimidation tactics and immersive illusions, never having enough time to fully explore its potential before the end came.

  I used it once before, against Joshua himself, trapping his mind in a loop of his worst memories while our physical bodies remained locked in combat. That only worked because of a combination of luck and meticulous planning; I’d managed to separate him from Aegis, his shield, which contained the bulk of his mental resistance enchantments. Without that protective barrier, his mind became vulnerable to my intrusion, though his raw strength was still formidable.

  In the final confrontation, his overconfidence led him to abandon his shield, focusing solely on overwhelming offense with Legion, his sword. That arrogance created the narrow window I needed to breach his mental defenses.

  Now, with years to practice before The Fall, I could refine this ability to its ultimate form. The Mind Palace wasn’t just a skill anymore; it was an extension of my consciousness, a realm where my will and mana became reality in its purest form. Every object within it carried the weight and substance of the real world yet remained infinitely malleable to my intent.

  When I rested at night, I could return to this inner domain and commune with perfect replicas of my lost loved ones, preserving their memories in exquisite detail. I could study any subject and retain information with unnatural clarity, the knowledge absorbing directly into my mind rather than having to be memorized conventionally.

  If Bev only knew how many times I’d died testing her theoretical combat applications in this space, sacrificing countless mental projections of myself to validate or disprove her hypotheses. I chuckled softly at what her reaction might have been.

  As my mastery grew, I discovered I could recreate perfect combat simulations, manifesting opponents of any size or ability to test tactics against. I could replay battles from different angles, slowing time to analyze what went wrong or what succeeded. The Mind Palace became my laboratory, my training ground, my sanctuary, and my weapon all at once.

  The first time I’d used the ability in the last timeline, I’d awakened feeling as if days had passed, though only an hour had elapsed in the real world. Even now, the sensation was disorienting; my mind carrying the fatigue of extended consciousness while my body remained relatively fresh.

  With each use, the Palace expanded. What had once been limited to a small patch of land now encompassed forests, mountains, lakes; an entire landscape shaped by my subconscious desires and fed by my growing mana reserves. The time dilation had stabilized at roughly five hours of Palace time for every hour in reality, but I suspected even this ratio could be improved with practice.

  Death within the Palace held no permanence; a blessing that had allowed me to test theories and abilities that would have been suicidal in the real world. In the previous timeline, with everyone I trusted besides Maeve gone, I’d had no chance to share this realm with others. Events had moved too quickly, the pressure of survival drowning out opportunities for deeper exploration.

  But now, with years of preparation ahead of us, I could bring my family into this inner world. We could compress months of training into weeks, years of study into months. The advantages were incalculable.

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  More significantly, the very existence of this ability confirmed my growing suspicion: if mana responded to mental imagery and will rather than System dictated skills, then the framework of System 1 was just that; a framework, not the source of power itself. If my theory proved correct, and my children developed abilities based on their focused studies rather than System assigned classes, then we had truly transcended the limitations we’d once believed inviolable.

  All I needed was to keep providing the future with my mana. I would be a battery that pushed my people forward; as long as I had enough.

  “That’s a gift that I’ve been amply blessed with,” I thought inwardly, sending silent gratitude to Lilith for this extraordinary advantage. Mana was mine to shape now, limited only by imagination and the price I was willing to pay.

  I channeled my mana with the intention of pure creation, feeling the familiar sensation of my consciousness expanding beyond its physical boundaries. Where once I had struggled to manifest even a simple room, now my will stretched reality with practiced ease. A pristine white space unfolded before my mind’s eye, extending outward in all directions like a blank canvas awaiting the artist’s touch.

  Experience had taught me the importance of anchors in this formless void. Without fixed points of reference, it was dangerously easy to lose oneself within the endless potential of the Mind Palace; to become untethered from reality and drift eternally in a labyrinth of one’s own making. I’d nearly lost my sanity that way once before, in the desperate days after Aurora’s death, when grief had caused my concentration to fracture at a critical moment.

  The memory of that disorientation, of feeling my identity dissolving into the infinite possibility space of my own mind, was enough to sharpen my focus. Just as before, whenever I had the System, I visualized our old home in the cul-de-sac, not just as I remembered it, but as it existed in perfect detail. Each scratch on the hardwood floors, each subtle discoloration in the kitchen tile, each unique sound of the third stair creaking; all brought into being through sheer will and mana.

  The house materialized around me, solidifying from transparent outlines to fully realized physicality. I added ambient sounds next; the soft hum of the refrigerator, the distant ticking of the grandfather clock in the living room, the subtle whisper of air moving through vents. Even smells took form, Aurora’s lavender perfume lingering in our bedroom, the faint aroma of Margo’s experimental cooking from the kitchen, the fresh-cut grass scent drifting through open windows.

  The level of detail far exceeded what I’d been capable of creating in the early days. Then, objects had been approximations; close enough to serve their purpose but clearly fabricated. Now, everything from the texture of the leather chair in my office to the microscopic fibers in the carpet was rendered perfectly. Reality and imagination had become indistinguishable.

  “This is wild!” I said aloud, reveling in the detail of the recreation.

  I walked to the representation of my office and settled into the lotus position on the floor, exactly matching my physical posture in the real world. The synchronization helped maintain the connection between body and mind, preventing disorientation upon return.

  With a thought, I summoned my Threads, curious to see how they would manifest in this realm of pure thought. They sprang into existence instantly; much faster and more responsive than in the physical world, their purple hue more vibrant, their movements more precise. I wove them into complex patterns with barely a flicker of concentration, watching as they danced and intertwined according to my will with no hands required.

  “Test complete,” I muttered with a smile of satisfaction. “The mana responds faster as it doesn’t have to leave the body. It’s also cheaper, as most of this creation is based on my imagination rather than manifesting in physical reality. The mana powers more of the spell itself, rather than its creations in this space.”

  Around me, the office responded to my words, the ambient lighting brightening slightly in seeming approval. This was the true power of the Mind Palace, not just as a training ground or memory vault, but as a living extension of my consciousness, responding to my thoughts and emotions like a perfect symbiote.

  With this I knew the skill had been completed, but I had one more experiment to attempt. It was something that could be incredibly useful for information gathering; a familiar. I couldn’t be everywhere at once, so I needed something that could be my senses before further counter measures could be figured out.

  Over the months since rediscovering the Mind Palace ability, I had attempted numerous times to bring elements created within it back to the physical world. It began as curiosity, could a book read in the Palace be carried back to reality? Could a weapon forged in imagination serve in physical combat?

  Each attempt had ended in failure, the mental constructs dissolving at the boundary between mind and matter. I’d tried various approaches: manifesting objects tied to emotional anchors, creating items with detailed atomic structures, even attempting to establish a channeling connection that would allow me to sustain the manifestation through continuous mana expenditure.

  Nothing worked.

  The barrier between the mental space and physical reality remained impenetrable, even to my Archon tier abilities. Water carried from lakes evaporated before my eyes, tools constructed with perfect mechanical precision faded like morning dew, weapons designed to complement my combat style dissolved into purple mist the moment I attempted to cross the threshold.

  Despite these setbacks, I remained convinced that there must be a way to bridge the realms. If mana could affect the real world, then a stable mental construct might be able to be manifested with enough power and precision.

  I concentrated on Lilith. I wanted to make a smaller version of the majesty that she presented me with on our first encounter in that space.

  Bringing up a screen on the wall with barely a thought, I watched the scene of my memory play out as a recording in front of me. I got to witness the first time she and I met in that massive room.

  Like a crop of a picture, I grabbed the corners of the giant spider form I witnessed and brought it down to the size of a small car.

  “Still too large for infiltration,” I said with a mumble. “How about we make it a guinea pig’s size.”

  I brought the edit down smaller to a size that could fit on my shoulder. I pulled up a color interface and darkened the highlights of light grey on her bristles. I made the eyes more bulbous across the length of her body, to better grasp information.

  “And finished,” I said as I looked at the little spider.

  I lifted my hand and formed a small pool of liquid; adding specific memories and a helpful attitude.

  I then activated the complex mana imprinting required to give birth to the mental construct. I wasn’t sure of outside, but here inside my Palace, the mana requirement wasn’t as significant.

  From its frozen location, its mandibles started to move, followed shortly by its appendages. Next it tested its bodies movements. After a few moments, it stopped testing its reflexes and looked up at me with eight beautiful eyes.

  “I guess you’d like a name, huh?” I asked the small creature.

  It immediately stuck up one leg in a comical motion, indicating that ‘yes’ it would like a name.

  “Hmm, I could name you after her,” I said with a passing thought.

  It threw up two legs in an X fashion, indicating that it wouldn’t be a good idea. With its simple movements and accepting expression, it looked ridiculously cute.

  “Ok, ok, that would be disrespectful, you’re right,” I said holding up my hands in surrender. “What about Umbra? That’s if you’re ok with the female persona.”

  She threw up one midnight black arm in gleeful agreement and proceeded to jump on my shoulder. We proceeded to setting up skills for her to be imbued with.

  Drawing upon the multitude of contracts that I had stored memories of, I accessed the skills that had been banked into my subconscious. Bringing up my home in this space allowed for easier access to the missing small pieces of information from the last timeline. I banked all contracted abilities within a rolodex for easier access.

  “Let’s see T for traps. Stealth from this one and a dash of venom from Jax,” I said as I created a skillset. “Layering the skills now, Umbra. Stay still.”

  She bristled when receiving the massive amount of information, but as a mana construct herself, she absorbed everything faster than living tissue. Once she settled, she looked up at me and smiled.

  “You did amazing! Good job,” I said to her while rubbing her head lightly with my right hand. Such soft fur.

  “Ready to test everything out?” I asked. Immediately one hand shot up, signaling that she was eager to get started.

  We continued to train with her abilities until I felt intense pressure on my right shoulder. I glanced upwards and spoke to Umbra.

  “I’ve got to go handle some business for now, feel free to explore the area.” I said as I walked out of the physical representation of our home and glanced to the backyard.

  “Take that area and build whatever you’d like, Umbra. I’ve given you access to a portion of my memories and the encyclopedia of some of the knowledge that I’ve accumulated. I’ll call upon you again once I return, I’m not sure of trying it on the outside just yet, especially with such low mana density in the atmosphere.” I said to her as I rubbed her beautiful head.

  The last words were spoken with a hint of frustration that reflected dozens of failed attempts. Despite Umbra’s apparent sentience and stability within the Mind Palace, I had no reason to believe she would be any different from my other failed manifestation attempts. The thought of her dissolving into mist upon crossing the boundary between mind and matter, as all my previous creations had, filled me with unexpected dread.

  I had come to care for this little construct in the short time since creating her. She was more than just a tool or extension of my will; she had become something unique, a consciousness born of my own but distinct from it. The prospect of losing her to another failed experiment wasn’t worth the risk, at least not without further research and preparation.

  She wiggled under the scratch and shot up a hand, indicating that she’d wait.

  “Such a good girl,” I said smiling and disappearing from my mental space.

  I guess the movers were here. I needed to get this in order before the call with Sophronia. Things were about to get busy.