Mind over Magic

Prologue: Echoes of the Lost Realm

The battle field was a war-torn wasteland, where the clash of steel and the roar of magic had long since died down. Craters marred the earth, remnants of powerful spells, and the air was thick with the stench of blood and ash. In the center of this desolation stood two figures—a father and son, warriors in their own right, facing the monstrous Dragonoid that had brought them to the brink of defeat.

The Dragonoid towered above them, its scales glinting like dark iron in the dim light. Its eyes burned with malevolent intelligence, and its maw dripped with the blood of fallen heroes. It was a creature of nightmares, a beast that had laid waste to entire armies. Yet here, at the edge of oblivion, the father and son stood defiantly, their bodies battered and broken, but their spirits unyielding.

The father, a mage of unparalleled skill, fell to his knees on the blood-soaked ground. His once pristine robe now torn and tattered from the fierce battle with the ferocious Dragonoid. With one trembling hand pressed against his chest, he tries desperately to stem the flow of blood from a gaping wound near his heart. Each ragged breath he takes echoes with the weight of defeat as he stares defiantly into the eyes of his enemy.

Beside him, his nine-year-old son, a prodigious tanker, lies motionless in a pool of crimson. The boy's small body is mangled and broken, limbs severed by the unforgiving claws of the Dragonoid. But even in death, his face remains a portrait of unyielding courage and determination. His tiny hands clings tightly to his shield, a sturdy barrier that reflects his unyielding courage until the final moments.

The Dragonoid's laughter reverberates as he strides forward, his massive wings unfurling with a powerful grace, casting a shadow that stretches across the land. Each step he takes sends tremors through the ground, shaking the earth beneath him like a symphony of thunderous beats. The father knew they had no strength left to fight, no hope of victory. Yet he had one last plan, one final gamble to change the course of fate. With a trembling hand, he began to weave a complex spell, his voice a hoarse whisper as he chanted the ancient incantations.

His plan was to create an Ego—a fragment of consciousness infused with his knowledge and power—to send back in time, to warn his past self of the impending doom and to train him properly. The spell took form, a glowing sphere of white energy slowly manifesting before him. But as the mage focused his magic, he felt his strength fading. The wound near his heart was draining his life force faster than he could replenish it.

Fighting against his exhaustion and struggling to keep his focus, the sorcerer desperately tried to finish the spell. His powers were fading, and he could feel his body weakening. Just when he thought all hope was lost, a small hand grabbed onto his arm, startling him. It was his son, barely conscious but determined to help. A part of him was grateful for the support, but another part couldn't help but worry for his child's safety.

Summoning the last of his strength, he whispered to his father, "Take my energy and use it to complete the spell, to save us." The sorcerer's heart swelled with love and pride for his son as they stood together against their formidable enemy. "Elvandor!" the father shouted triumphantly, as they channeled their combined energy into one final surge, a burst of power that coursed through their bodies. "Luminethra"!

The mage created an ego from his inner power and sent it back in time to his former self. This ethereal entity held the wisdom and strength gained through experience, ready to guide and fortify the younger version of himself. The ritual chamber was filled with rare incense and surging magic as they fought for survival against unknown forces, their essences entwined in a dance of liberation.

Tears streamed down the mage's face, but there was no time to mourn. With a choked sob, he accepted his son's sacrifice, using his life force to fuel the spell. However, something went wrong—the Ego grew stronger and more aware, overwhelmed by the influx of energy. It spiraled out of control, threatening everything in its path.

Instead of piercing through time, it veered off course, tearing through the fabric of reality itself. The mage felt his consciousness slipping away as the spell unraveled, the last remnants of his life force burning out. He tried to reach out, to stop the Ego, but it was too late. With a blinding flash, the sphere of energy vanished, leaving behind only silence and darkness.

The father and son lay still and silent on the vast, blood-soaked battlefield, their once strong bodies now broken and lifeless. The Dragonoid, a ferocious beast with gleaming scales and razor-sharp claws, let out an enraged roar as it realized its prey had been taken from its grasp. With a heavy heart, it turned away from the fallen heroes, their bravery and sacrifice forever etched into the land. But the story was far from over, for their legacy would live on in the hearts of those who remembered their valiant fight against the beast.

In a distant, unknown universe, the Ego awoke. It was a strange existence, an amalgamation of thoughts, memories, and raw power. It had no physical form, just a swirling mass of white energy with an almost futuristic, otherworldly sheen. It pulsed with life, sentient and aware, yet confused.

|"What... is my designation?"| the Ego processed, its voice reverberating through its digital core. |"Location... identified?"|

It sifted through the jumbled pieces of memories it had inherited - some from the father, some from the son. But they were disjointed and incomplete. The Ego's sole purpose was to locate its maker, referred to as "Zidane" in a faint echo of the boy's mind, and the boy himself. However, this environment...this era...was unlike any other it had encountered before.

|"This deviation is incorrect,"| the Ego processed.

|"My designated directive was to return... for instructional purposes, for training... but my current location is unknown."|

The Ego began to drift, its energy humming with uncertainty. It was lost in a new universe, a different timeline, with no clear path forward. But even in this strange reality, it held onto a single, unyielding purpose: to find its Master and his son, to fulfill the mission it had been created for.

Even if they didn't exist in this world, even if this universe had no place for them, the Ego would search. It would learn. And it would fight to protect the ones it was created to save. Because somewhere, in some reality, they still needed it. And it would find them, no matter how long it took.