"Oh my God… Mom will kill me."
He muttered the words under his breath, clutching the strap of his bag. His mother's warnings had been clear and strict: never touch alcohol. Not even a drop. And yet… today had been different.
Rylan. That scoundrel. He had insisted, pushed, practically shoved the cup into Scott's hands. Scott clenched his fists. "Oh, I'll teach him a lesson someday… when I have the chance."
Shoving that thought aside, he focused on the path ahead. The house loomed in the distance, nestled along a patch of countryside that looked almost like it had been untouched by humans for centuries. Its metal arch shimmered faintly under the moonlight, intricate runes pulsing along its surface.
As he approached, the AI recognition system embedded in the gate hummed to life. Sensors scanned him meticulously. His presence triggered a cascade of energy, and the gate swung open on its own, as if it had a will of its own, granting him passage.
Scott stepped forward, heart racing. Beyond the threshold, he saw her. His mother. Sitting gracefully on the edge of the platform, her posture calm yet commanding, like a queen surveying her domain. Even in the dim light, her presence radiated authority.
"Mom…" Scott began, waving from a distance, trying to keep his voice casual.
Before stepping closer, he reached for a small bottle tucked in his bag. He had prepared for this moment. A few swishes of mouthwash, a careful wipe of his lips, and he activated a discreet AI scan across his body. Every trace of the beer—erased. Every scent—gone. He tried to reassure himself: She won't know. She can't know.
Still, he approached slowly, keeping his head slightly bowed.
Before he could even speak again, his mother rose gracefully and advanced toward him. In a blink, a sharp smack landed on the top of his head.
"You stubborn boy! Didn't I tell you not to drink?"
Scott froze. Shock rippled through him. How could she possibly know? He had been so careful. He tugged nervously at his ear, his face heating up.
"Oh, Mom… I'm so sorry! I… I'll never do it again!" he stammered, the words tumbling out in a rush.
But she wasn't finished. She tugged his ear gently yet firmly, gave another light smack on his head, and then scolded him in a voice that carried equal measures of irritation and affection.
Scott felt a pang of guilt and sadness. Despite his mother's small acts of discipline, her concern was clear. Every gesture reminded him how much she cared, how much she wanted him to be ready for what tomorrow would bring.
Finally, she softened, stepping back and smoothing her robe. "How was school today?" she asked, her tone switching abruptly from stern to gentle, almost impossibly fast. "I hope you are aware… your Celestial Gate opens tomorrow."
Scott froze. His eyes widened. "Tomorrow…?"
"Yes," his mother said, a faint smile playing on her lips. "You've prepared for this day. I trust you'll face it with strength and focus."
Scott blinked, stunned. He had never seen her shift emotions so quickly—one moment a strict disciplinarian, the next, a calm mentor filled with quiet pride. It felt almost surreal.
He swallowed hard and nodded. "I… I'll do my best."
His mother gave a small nod, and then with the swiftness and elegance that always unnerved him, she stepped aside. "Rest well tonight, Scott. You'll need every ounce of energy for tomorrow's trial."
Scott could only nod again. He watched her for a moment, taking in her serene presence, then turned and walked toward his room. Each step was heavy with anticipation, excitement, and a trace of anxiety. The gate, the trial, the Celestial power—it all felt closer now than ever.
Once inside, he prepared for bed. He stripped off his outer layers, stretched lightly, and sat on the edge of his bed. His mind replayed the events of the day—the school, the Art of Life, the party, and even the small humiliation of Rylan forcing him to drink.
Life… he whispered softly, recalling the mysterious energy that had activated within him that night. The Art had healed him, protected him, and even responded on its own. It was unlike anything he had seen before, and he couldn't shake the feeling that tomorrow, when he stood before his Celestial Gate, something would happen.
He laid down, staring at the ceiling. The runes along the walls glimmered faintly.He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.
Tomorrow, he reminded himself, everything would change. Tomorrow, he would face his first Gate, and nothing would ever be the same again.
With that thought in mind, Scott drifted into a restless sleep, anticipation and uncertainty mingling like fire and wind