The Transmigrated Author

"One minute."

I read the words twice before they sank in.

"Against you."

I looked up from the window. He was already watching me—that same tired, knowing expression.

"You knew this was coming," I said.

"I remember it happening. That's the problem with being the future version—you can't warn the past without becoming part of the warning."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I can give."

I studied him again. The way his weight shifted. The way his hands were already half-raised, muscle memory from a thousand fights. I drew my sword. The sound of it leaving the sheath was the only real thing in this place.

He didn't move. His hands stayed loose at his sides, and somehow that was worse than if he'd taken a stance.

"You're going to try to kill me."

"I'm going to try to test you. There's a difference."

"Is there?"

"Sixty seconds," he said. "That's all you need to survive. After that, you win."

"And if I don't?"

"Then I die. You die. We both lose."

He said it like a joke. His eyes didn't get the memo.

"The System calls this a quest," I said. "But you're the one who triggered it."

"I didn't trigger anything. They're testing you. Testing us. To see if you're ready."

"Ready for what?"

"The things I can't warn you about."

[COMBAT INITIATED!]

[TIME REMAINING: 60.00]

[OBJECTIVE: SURVIVE.]

***

Rel didn't attack.

The moment the system prompt faded, he was already moving—not forward, but laterally, circling the empty white space with his sword raised and his eyes locked on his older self.

Every instinct he'd developed across months of fighting told him the same thing: this version of him was in his prime.

Three years of combat, three years of survival, three years of becoming whatever that broken mask represented.

There was no scenario where charging in blind ended well.

So he didn't. He watched. He waited. He moved.

"..."

His older self stood perfectly still, tracking him with a lazy turn of his head.

Just those tired eyes following Rel's path like he'd already seen it a hundred times.

"You're running already," the older Rel said.

His voice was flat, but the disappointment in it was deliberate.

"I thought we'd be better than that."

Rel kept circling waiting for something to come.

"I'm repositioning."

"It's the same thing."

"Strategy and panic aren't the same thing."

The older Rel's mouth twitched. Almost amused. Almost sad.

"You sound just like me."

"I am you."

"Not yet."

FWOOOSH!

The words hung in the air for half a beat.

Then he moved.

Rel's eyes couldn't track it. One moment his older self was standing still and then the next, the distance between them had collapsed.

No blur. No warning. Just presence, suddenly there, suddenly close, his palm already driving toward Rel's chest.

SHAAAAA!!!

And around that palm, aura erupted.

Black lightning. Not the faint sparks Rel had seen from Louise's unconscious awakening or the controlled arcs that trailed Jan's gold.

This was more dense than anything he had seen.

It was the dominance aura that had been honed across years into something that didn't just pressure the air—it crushed it.

The space around the strike warped.

Rel felt his own aura flicker in response, not matching it, just reacting, like a candle sensing a storm.

Fully mastered.

The thought was cold and fast. If that strike landed, it wouldn't just hurt. It would end him.

[Clockwork Of Time [Grade 2] Has Activated!]

The world slowed.

The palm, which had been inches from his chest, became a slow-motion descent.

The black lightning froze mid-crackle, arcing through the air in lazy, beautiful spirals.

Rel was already twisting his body against the sudden shift in momentum.

He moved his sword coming around for a desperate parry he knew wouldn't be enough—

But the palm kept moving.

Through the slowed time. Through the distortion. Through everything.

BAM!

"...!"

It struck his chest.

KEUK...

The impact wasn't clean. Clockwork of Time had bled off some of the force but it was enough that his ribs didn't shatter on contact but the energy behind it still blew through him like a shockwave.

Rel's feet left the ground and the world snapped back to full speed as his ability shattered under the pressure, the skill deactivating before he even registered the pain.

His older self stood where he'd been a second ago, palm still extended, black lightning fading from his fingertips.

He hadn't followed up but it didn't look like he needed to.

"Clockwork of Time," the older Rel said.

He lowered his hand.

"I used to rely on that too."

Rel forced himself to his feet. His chest burned where the strike had landed.

"Used to?"

"Eventually you learn that slowing time doesn't matter if your opponent is already faster than you." He flexed his fingers.

The last sparks of Dominance Aura crackled and died.

"Speed isn't about time. It's about decision. You decided to run. I decided to hit you. By the time you activated your skill, I'd already won."

Rel wiped his mouth. No blood. Small mercies.

"You're lecturing me in the middle of a fight."

"I'm teaching you. There's a difference."

"Is there?"

"Not yet."

Haah... His attack from earlier is still killing me...

Rel forced himself to breathe.

His older self was faster. Stronger.

His Dominance Aura was fully mastered he had that kind of pressure that doesn't give his opponents room to think.

Even with Clockwork of Time it was all useless if the strike was already committed before the skill activated.

That meant evasion wasn't about speed. It was about anticipation.

Reading the strike before it came. Countering before the commitment.

But how did you read someone who knew every thought you were going to have before you had it?

He knows me. He is me. So I need to—

"You're doing it again."

The voice came from nowhere. Rel's eyes snapped up.

"You're analysing mid-combat," the older Rel said, closing the gap in a blink.

"I can see it in your face. The pause. The calculation. You think you're buying time, but you're just giving me openings."

Shit...

SHHKKKK

Rel didn't hesitate. His sword was already swinging.

"Divine Severance."