Noah went to meet his parents, and the moment they saw him, it was as if they were staring at a ghost.

For a few heartbeats, neither of them could move.

"Eric… I think I've finally gone mad from grief," Martha whispered, turning to her husband as tears streamed down her face. "I'm seeing our son standing at the door."

Eric's eyes were already red, his vision trembling. "Then I must be mad too, Martha," he said hoarsely. "Because I see him as well. Why would God be so cruel now? Why reopen wounds that never truly healed?"

His legs gave out, and he fell to the ground.

Martha followed him, her strength abandoning her completely. To them, the sight before their eyes could only be a cruel illusion born from unbearable sorrow.

Seeing them collapse, Noah rushed forward.

"Mom. Dad. I'm real," he said urgently. "I'm not your imagination."

At his words, both of them looked up as if travelers dying of thirst had suddenly found water in the desert.

Martha stood up instantly. Her hands trembled as she reached for his face, afraid that even touching him would make him disappear. When her fingers felt warmth, solid and undeniable, she let out a broken sob and wrapped her arms around him with all her strength.

"Noah… is it really you?" she cried. "My baby. You're alive. Thank God. Thank God…"

Eric rose unsteadily and joined them, his arms closing around his family as tears slid freely down his face.

He quickly called Naomi.

The reunion unfolded like a quiet symphony of restrained sobs and frantic heartbeats, the sound of lives thawing after a winter they had believed would never end. Inside the modest villa provided by the Federation, warmth lingered in the air, carrying the familiar scent of lavender tea. Martha always brewed it when she was anxious. Today, she had not stopped.

For these few hours, Noah allowed himself to be human.

Naomi was flying with her top speed. She thought an imposter came to her house to scam her parents by using her dead brother's identity.

When Naomi arrived, she did not so much open the door as detonate through it.

Her Gold level aura flared instinctively, sharp and violent, the reflex of a protector prepared to incinerate an impostor. For a fraction of a second, she was a professor, a high level cultivator.

Then she saw his eyes.

The familiar calm shattered her armor instantly.

Naomi crossed the room in a heartbeat and collapsed into Noah's arms, clutching him as if the world itself might try to steal him away again. Her composure disintegrated. She sobbed into his shoulder, voice breaking, wailing until her throat went raw and her strength failed her.

Noah held her without speaking.

When she finally pulled back, eyes red and unfocused, he smiled softly.

"I woke up in a specialized medical facility in the far north," he said, his voice smooth, warm, convincing. "They said that I was in a comatose condition for the past one year.

The surge of cosmic energy that hit the planet a few days ago, the Great Awakening, rekindled my dormant neural pathways. A miracle of science and mana."

It was a perfect lie.

In a world where people now flew through the skies and hurled lightning with their bare hands, a mana induced medical miracle was not only believable, it was comforting.

"I don't care how," Eric said hoarsely. "I don't care if the gods themselves dragged you back. You're home. That's all that matters."

Naomi did not answer right away.

She sat cross legged on the floor, watching Noah with narrowed eyes. "But the doctors," she said slowly. "They didn't give you a cultivation test? The amount of energy you must have absorbed just to wake up… you should have at least a Bronze foundation."

Noah scratched the back of his neck, offering a sheepish smile. "I feel stronger, sure. But mostly I just feel like myself. I think the energy burned itself out fixing my brain."

She nodded, but doubt lingered.

Reaching out, Naomi grasped his wrist and sent a careful pulse of her Gold rank mana into his body. Noah did not resist. Instead, he adjusted his internal structure on the fly.

To her senses, his body felt vast and empty. Healthy, resilient, but completely devoid of flowing mana. No roaring rivers. No cultivation core.

Just a normal human vessel.

"It's okay," Naomi whispered, relief softening her features. "Even if you never cultivate, I'm a professor at Central Martial University now. I have more than enough resources to protect you, Mom, and Dad. Especially now that the Ancients have arrived."

The word chilled the room.

Through the window, the silver sky gleamed faintly, a constant reminder that humanity was no longer the sole master of its home.

"The Archons," Noah murmured, testing the name. "They seem… efficient."

"They're terrifying," Naomi replied grimly. "They released a revised manual yesterday for University staff. It's an upgrade of the Federation's core heart law. When Archon Valerius reviewed our curriculum, he went silent for nearly a minute. He said the way it handled energy entropy was divine. He couldn't believe modern humans developed it."

Noah lifted his tea to hide the faint curve of his lips.

The technique they revered was his own. The Standardized Cosmic Breath, released anonymously to the Federation a year earlier.

"They've abandoned their own basic manuals," Naomi continued. "They believe there's a Hidden Sage among us. Someone who understands the Source better than they do. They're searching for him."

"I'm sure he's just an eccentric old man hiding in a mountain somewhere," Noah said lightly.

Far above the Atlantic, beyond physical space, a meeting of staggering importance unfolded in the astral plane.

High Archon Valerius of Aethelgard sat upon a throne of condensed light. Opposite him stood the High Technarch of Xylos Talos, its form a shifting lattice of chrome and violet electricity.

"The scans are complete," the Technarch said, its voice layered with synchronized frequencies. "Fourth Epoch humans are biologically inferior, yet their Federation Technique exceeds our Prime Era Core by fourteen point seven percent. This defies all known models unless guided by a World Level consciousness."

Valerius frowned, white flame hair rippling. "We found no such signatures. Perhaps a Primordial remnant guided them unknowingly. Regardless, our greater concern remains. The Bloodline Lock on Earth's coordinates is vibrating. The veil is thinning. The Primordial Empires would notice soon."

"We cannot remain hidden," the Technarch replied. "Earth is now a Grade A cultivation planet. If we linger, we invite Harvest. Colonization is the only solution. Spread the human signature across nearby sectors. Confuse the sensors."

Valerius nodded. A luminous star map appeared between them. "Modern humans will serve as settlers. We provide ships and gates. They take the risk. We remain the concealed blade."

His eyes narrowed. "But first, we secure the Trial Ground of the Supreme."

The Technarch froze. "It exists?"

"Our sensors detected it beneath Earth's crust. A pocket dimension anchored to the planetary core. A legacy left by one who surpassed the Mythical Grade. A trial meant to judge a species."

"If conquered," the Technarch whispered, "one of us could reach World Level."

"We will send the children," Valerius said calmly. "The Trial scales to age and rank. Federation students and our junior initiates will enter together."

Three days later, the Dual Throne Rule issued its first global mandate.

The Central Martial University erupted into chaos.

A Great Expedition was announced. The Trial Ground of the Supreme had been discovered. All Gold rank cultivators and above were required to attend.

Naomi returned home pale, hands shaking as she packed. "They're sending us into a pocket dimension,"

Noah looked up from the vegetables he was peeling. "A Trial Ground?"

"Yes. It opens in three days. The Aethelgard juniors are monsters. There are many peak Gold beings who are only 15 years old. They look at us like livestock."

Noah set the peeler down.

To him, the Trial was nothing more than an abandoned training room left behind by a passing cosmic traveler. A toy box.

"Don't worry," he said quietly. His voice carried weight enough to still her breath. "Focus on the eleventh verse. Spatial Anchoring. The Trial won't separate you from your team."

Naomi stared. "That verse isn't public yet. How do you know it?"

He smiled innocently. "A leak online."

She hugged him hard and left.

Once the door closed, Noah's expression went cold.

His awareness expanded. He saw the Archons preparing to sacrifice students. He saw the Technarch priming soul data harvesters.

"They want to play masters," he whispered.

Probability bent around him.

"If they want a trial, I'll give them one."

He would enter the trial ground too.

He would not enter as Noah.

He would enter as a participant.

A simple wooden mask formed in his hand. As he donned it, his presence transformed completely.

The Nameless One was born.

Three days later, the Trial Gate tore open above the Sahara.

Among thousands of peoplw, a masked young man stepped forward.

The god who had awakened the world walked quietly into his own game.

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