On a distant planet, lava churned across the surface while shards of ice fell from the sky like comets, crashing down every few minutes. Above, clouds loomed thick and impenetrable—dense enough to block any view from space.
A typical newly formed world undergoing a Terra Transformation Situation—a TTS—its completion dictated by the environment shaping it.
Or at least… it should have been.
Instead, this planet housed the Impossibiliter Headquarters—placed in what should have been the most dangerous location imaginable.
And yet, somehow… the safest.
Across the surface, jagged red mountain formations stretched outward, already beginning their slow cooling process. But scattered between them, at unnatural angles, faint lights flickered.
They glowed like lava—but not quite.
Subtly different.
Like something pretending to belong.
If one managed to look closer—despite the constant bombardment of falling ice—they might notice movement. Small figures weaving between those scattered lights.
From high above, if not for the blinding steam where magma met ice, the scene would resemble an anthill—vast and alive—crawling with tiny, restless forms.
And within one of those mountains…
A class was in session.
One student.
One teacher.
And something else.
Unseen.
Many do not ask the necessary questions.
Or perhaps they refuse to acknowledge the patterns that connect different possibilities.
Possibility itself is the recognition of those patterns—shared events, repeated truths—viewed from one perspective… or many.
Yet most possibilities are judged incorrectly.
Dismissed too quickly.
Accepted too blindly.
Whether by the masses… or by smaller groups trapped within the same limited perspective.
But there exists a Clan.
A small, synchronized group who achieve what others deem impossible.
To outsiders, their actions might resemble simple experiments—like parkour—testing limits, defying expectation.
To the masses, however…
It is nonsense.
Impossible.
Denied.
There are many things one can master within reality.
Most of them are ignored.
Rejected.
Or denied entirely—
Even by those who have experienced them.
"What is a Master?" a middle-aged woman asked.
"A Master is someone who excels in a Gate Subject beyond the level of the masses," a young boy replied.
"Correct."
She smiled faintly behind her desk, a review sheet resting beneath her hand.
"Why don't the masses like the Impossibiliters?" the boy asked, rocking his chair back onto its hind legs.
"They are afraid," she said, tilting her head as she watched his posture shift. "Afraid we may become Monsters from the Other Side. Many would not survive if another Outbreak were to occur."
"Afraid of that?!" the boy snapped. "That's history! If not for us, they would've gone extinct! It's us who helped humans survive! It's how they made it this far!"
—mumble mumble—
Realizing his mistake, he quickly turned his head, pouting just enough to hide his lips.
"What was that last part?" she asked, her tone sharpening as she slid the papers aside.
"P-plus the skill sets are fun…" he said quickly. "They should be happy—and in debt to us—for Grandpa teaching them our abilities so they can use them too."
—facepalm—
"Sorry! I mean…" He straightened up, forcing composure. "It is exciting to be granted passage through the Barriers constructed by the Masters of Old… to protect those who refuse to see."
He exhaled quietly.
No punishment.
Good.
"Better," she said, standing and stepping around the desk. "During your actual exam, they will not be as lenient as I am."
She crossed her arms over her armored silk shirt.
"So—no funny business."
A pause.
"Unless absolutely necessary."
"YES!" the boy shouted, pumping his fists.
His chair wobbled dangerously before he caught himself, snapping back into focus as she sighed.
"Now," she continued, leaning slightly against the desk, "do you have any questions before your exam… or do you believe you are ready for the Trial?"
The boy tilted back again, balancing effortlessly this time. He inhaled—
And unleashed everything at once.
"Does the bet still apply?
Why do the lights flicker at different intervals?
Why hasn't the backup generator activated if the room is still dark?
When is Grandpa coming back?
What's your specialty besides teaching?
What else do you teach?
When do I get to pass through a Distortion?
Why are people talking about the Lost Heiress being found?
Does that mean I have a sister—or a fiancée?
Do I get to meet her?
Can I rescue her?
Do we have to train her from beginner level?
How should I address her?"
He finished in a single breath.
Then stared at her.
Wide-eyed.
Innocent.
"…"
Her expression flattened into a glare.
":3"
He slowly tilted his head.
The chair didn't even wobble.
They held eye contact.
Silence stretched.
She rubbed her temple.
Regret.
Then—
The darkness shifted.
Behind the boy, the shadows thickened unnaturally.
She froze.
If it struck now…
The Young Master wouldn't survive long enough for her to react.
But instead—
It moved.
Slowly drifting away toward the far wall.
Watching.
Waiting.
She exhaled, lowering her hand carefully.
Permission granted.
For now.
The boy remained completely unaware.
She steadied herself, forcing calm back into her voice.
And began to answer.