As I entered the classroom, I maintained the impassive posture I had cultivated over the past seven days. My eyes did not seek contact with others, and my mouth remained closed.
I sat in silence, waiting for the teacher as the murmurs of my classmates filled the air.
"—I heard that the mortals of this world are different," a silver-haired girl whispered, twisting her fingers together anxiously.
"They say that some can even sense our presence without us revealing it."
"—Nonsense," replied another student, a boy with golden markings pulsing on his arms.
"Mortals are mortals. They worship anyone who deigns to appear like a shadow in a cave."
I refrained from rolling my eyes. Their arrogance was predictable, but still irritating. Unlike them, I knew what it was like to live as a mortal—I knew the weight of hunger, fear, helplessness.
And, deep down, that gave me an advantage that none of them had.
The professor strode into the room, his robe embroidered with glowing constellations dragging lightly on the floor.
"—Young gods," he announced without any greeting.
"Follow me."
We followed him through corridors that seemed to stretch on forever, until we reached a large circular room with thirty identical doors, each leading to a testing booth.
"—Inside each booth, you will find a terminal that will connect you to the Proof World," the professor explained.
"Remember: time flows twice as fast there. Thirty days for you will be fifteen here. Your goal is to guide a mortal kingdom to prosperity—or ruin, if that is your thing."
A barely perceptible smile curved my lips. Finally.
But then I realized that someone was watching me. It was her—the blue-haired girl, Nalu.
Her amber eyes fixed on me for a moment before she turned away, leaving me with the feeling that I had been discovered.
The professor continued: "—The kingdoms you will rule are in different states. Some are prosperous, others are on the verge of collapse. There is no trade-off. There is no outside interference. What matters is how you will use what you have."
He raised a hand, and the cabin doors opened simultaneously.
"—Choose. And good luck." The other students rushed forward, eager to secure the closest cabins, as if that would give them some advantage.
I, however, walked calmly to one of the last doors.
Before I entered, Gale appeared beside me, his voice a barely audible whisper: "—You seem different today, Adrian."
I froze for a second, but recovered quickly. "—And you seem too curious," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.
He chuckled softly and disappeared into his cabin.
Inside mine, I found a minimalist space: a bed, a crystal terminal, and a small table with provisions.
In the center, a reclining chair waited, ready to receive my body as my consciousness traveled.
I sat down, closed my eyes, and let myself go.
The sensation was dizzying—like being ripped from my own body and thrown through the void of the cosmos. Stars streaked across my vision, entire galaxies passing by in seconds.
And then—impact.
My consciousness landed in a temple—not a ruined church, but an abandoned shrine, its walls covered in ancient runes that glowed faintly at my touch.
And in the center, instead of an expressionless statue… there was a mirror.
And in the reflection, I stared at myself—but not the god William.
The mortal I had been.
The few faithful present—five, not ten—fell to their knees, but not in terror.
In recognition.
"—The Forgotten God has returned," a woman murmured, her hands shaking.
And then I understood.
This was no ordinary test.
They already knew me.