Chapter 51: Parallel Worldlines, Age of the Mists (Part II)

In Stone Ironheart’s original world, technology flourished and culture thrived. Even with his social standing, he had access to a variety of wildly imaginative novels. In that world, they called it patchwork literature. Occasionally, free articles would be sent out, and he would take advantage of them when available.

Time-travel stories were familiar to Stone Ironheart. If he were to transmigrate into a world of beastfolk or magic, he wouldn’t hesitate—he’d simply hone his skills and get to work.

But this was not a completely unrelated otherworld.

Here were two Earths, so alike yet with such divergent historical turning points. It was as if the main trunk of history had, at the node of 1919, branched into two distinct limbs.

Moreover, both worlds contained himself. What deeper connection lay beneath the surface? Was there a reason his consciousness could descend into this body?

As Stone Ironheart furrowed his brow in thought, his visual field suddenly shifted. In that instant, he was utterly stunned, frozen in place.

“Class is starting.”

“Stand up!”

The rustling sound of students rising filled the air. Though Class 28 was known as the worst class, basic classroom etiquette was still observed. The students, whether dutiful or indifferent, all eventually stood.

The substitute teacher was about to say, “Sit down,” when she noticed a burly figure in the third row from the back, by the window, sitting motionless, with not the slightest intention of rising.

Did this student have no sense of basic courtesy? The teacher felt a surge of anger but knew that the troublemakers in this class were many. If she singled out this big fellow, chances were she’d end up losing face herself. So she swallowed her irritation, bit her tongue, and casually said, “Sit down,” deciding to proceed with her lesson.

Why bother with these unruly students? At least half of them would be expelled by the time they reached their second year.

Though the teacher kept quiet, the troublemakers in the back row saw everything clearly and instantly admired Iron Brother even more. To them, the coolest guy was the one who didn’t give a damn about the teacher. What good was academic achievement? The model students were just their parents’ echo chambers, the teachers’ lapdogs.

Look at Iron Brother—he didn’t move a muscle during class, and even the teacher said nothing. Now that was impressive!

The troublemakers cast adoring glances at Stone Ironheart, as if a “+10 reputation with the troublemaker faction” notification flashed above him.

If Stone Ironheart knew what those troublemakers were thinking, he would scoff. What was so cool or impressive about posturing? Real coolness was gaining true ability.

Besides, when someone openly taught mind arts, wasn’t it only proper to show respect? If Iron Brother hadn’t truly been distracted, hadn’t genuinely failed to notice, did they think he wouldn’t have stood up and greeted the teacher respectfully?

But now, he truly couldn’t spare the attention.

Because within Stone Ironheart’s vision, a diagram appeared.

Its origin unknown, its destination uncertain; he couldn’t even tell why it had been triggered, or what caused it to manifest. Perhaps his intense contemplation activated some mechanism, or maybe some inexplicable logic made it appear at this precise moment. Regardless, once the diagram appeared, it occupied his entire field of vision.

Everything else—progress bars, attribute descriptions—vanished.

Even the real world faded from sight.

Only the diagram remained.

It was incomparably complex, yet incredibly simple; grand, yet remarkably specific. Stone Ironheart couldn’t describe the sensation—like gazing directly at a concept far beyond his capacity to endure, with infinite information surging toward him.

If not for some special mechanism at work, his mind and reason might have been obliterated in an instant, his personality washed clean to emptiness. Fortunately, that mechanism acted as a dam, resisting the overload, allowing him only a brief moment of stupefaction.

With his current abilities, he could see only a portion of the diagram—a trivial fragment. Or rather, the high-level information and concepts reflected into his consciousness were but faint echoes.

They were beams of light, forming shapes. Like a tree, with branches and extensions. But also like a trident, each branch a parallel line of varying thickness.

On the brightest, thickest, straightest line, Stone Ironheart saw a shining point, and within it, sensed something familiar. Then, on a thick branch, he spotted a faint glimmer—a tiny flash that gave him an inexplicable sense of intimacy.

The two flashes occupied different positions on the lines; the one on the trunk was further back, the one on the branch was closer to the front. Aside from the trunk and this branch, there must have been more, but Stone Ironheart’s abilities couldn’t perceive them.

The diagram flickered and vanished, a fleeting glimpse that struck Stone Ironheart like a bolt of lightning, leaving him immobilized. Unable to think, feel, or move—chaotic as if unborn.

Only when the teacher began to lecture loudly did Stone Ironheart exhale and suddenly regain his senses.

“What was that…?”

Amazed, he couldn’t help but be astonished. Even with just a glance, the diagram was unforgettable.

He sat dazed for a long time before a realization dawned.

Though there were no explanations, no annotations, no audio, the diagram itself was a message. Stone Ironheart’s brain automatically began the widest interpretation it could manage, and he suddenly gained a vague understanding of his current situation.

Not much, but two crucial points.

First, the world he now inhabited and his original world were one and the same. More precisely, this world was another possibility born from a different historical turning point—a parallel timeline. And this “Top Scholar Stone” was himself, under another set of possibilities.

He was, in essence, himself—only the world’s evolution and differing circumstances had spawned alternate outcomes.

This could be considered his “incarnation.”

With this realization, Stone Ironheart felt a tighter connection to this body, and the resistance from the other consciousness weakened. The primal energy in his abdomen and the mental energy in his mind seemed to grow livelier.

The second point was even more vital: he would not remain here forever.

Though he didn’t know when his return would come, Stone Ironheart understood clearly that his consciousness would eventually return to his original body, his “true self,” and his original “possibility.”