At Hogwarts, the story begins with deconstructing Avada Kedavra.

In the days that followed, Hogwarts was covered by increasingly thick layers of snow.

That risky attempt on the field went unpunished, and the volatile global will did not impose any further punishment.

But this false tranquility provided Lucien with the best cover. In countless late nights in the Room of Requirement, amidst the flickering fire, he finally forged the silver key that could deceive the past.

Time flies, and it's already Christmas Eve.

The vast majority of young wizards dragged their suitcases and rushed towards the Hogwarts Express. As the noise subsided, the castle revealed its original cold and empty true appearance.

The night was deep, on the top floor of the Ravenclaw Tower.

Lucian stood alone before the white marble statue of Rowena Ravenclaw. Outside, the blizzard pounded against the glass with a dull thud.

"People regard wisdom as a gift, but I regard it as a plunder."

The mind sees the world below,

The appearance of reality crumbled in his eyes. The cold, hard texture of the marble melted away, replaced by countless interwoven, magical warp and weft threads radiating a deep blue hue.

These streams of light were incredibly complex, like pulsating blood vessels or the trajectories of stars, constructing an exquisitely precise cycle within the statue. It was a rhythm unique to ancient magic, a breath that had been lost to time.

More importantly, golden threads gather here, almost tangible.

There was only one break.

At the top of the statue's head, where the stone crown once stood, there was a distinct black void. Thousands of magical threads abruptly stopped there, awaiting the key that could restart everything.

"Found it."

Lucian took a silver replica of a crown from his robe pocket.

This was a replica he had spent half a semester forging in the Alchemy Workshop of the Room of Requirement, using goblin forging techniques and ancient transmutation. Although it lacked the Ravenclaw Crown's divine power to unlock wisdom, the matching circuits were enough to serve as the key.

He tiptoed gently as he crowned the sleeping queen, fastening the silver ring over the empty space.

Perfectly fitted.

A blue magical energy channel opened up. A massive pulse of magical energy flowed downwards along the statue.

The statue slowly rotated, its base sinking to reveal a deep passageway behind it, covered with ancient runes.

Filch's footsteps could be heard outside the door. Lucien didn't wait any longer and stepped inside.

……

As he entered, the entrance slowly rose.

A passageway unfolds ahead.

At the end of the passageway was a huge bronze door.

There were no handles or keyholes on the door, only two lifelike bronze eagle heads. Their eyes, inlaid with the purest sapphires, gleamed in the darkness with the cold, soul-searching light that was usually found in Ravenclaw.

As Lucian approached, both eagle heads came to life simultaneously.

They slowly opened their beaks, and a stream of azure light burst forth, weaving in mid-air into a line of characters flowing like mercury:

Where does time begin, and where does it end?

This is a classic philosophical puzzle. Whether you answer "at the beginning of creation" or "at the end of time," you will fall into the trap of linear logic.

Lucian did not rush to speak.

Under the observation of the Mind's Vision, this puzzle reveals its true magical structure.

Behind the door is a magical ring that connects end to end.

In fact, not only magic, but time also loops within it, making it a miniature world.

The light flow surges within the ring, without beginning or end, endlessly cycling in an eternal dimension.

He raised his head, looking directly into those two jewel-like eyes, his voice steady:

"Now is the end of the past and the beginning of the future."

The magic ring in the air trembled at his voice.

"Time is a circle, with neither beginning nor end; it exists only in the perception of the observer."

As soon as he finished speaking, the perfect Möbius strip structure shone brightly.

The heavy bronze gate slid open to both sides, making a sound like the sigh of an ancient behemoth.

Lucian stepped through the gate.

A sudden tightening behind his navel, an irresistible force pulling him backward.

The moment his toes left the ground, the world collapsed. Lucian felt his bones tighten, his skin clinging to the unseen torrent of magic.

The only noise around was the high-speed friction of magic, like thousands of whispering ghosts shrieking deep in the eardrums.

Then reality crashed down on him, gravity regained control of his body, and the speed of the fall was suffocating. For most wizards, this would be the moment they crashed onto the grass, vomiting up their dinner.

But just before the impact, Lucien magically reversed his momentum, dissipating all the force, his knees slightly bent, and he landed steadily.

The world stopped spinning.

He fell into a gray-white void.

There is no distinction between heaven and earth here.

Countless enormous stone staircases extend haphazardly through this gray-white space. Some lie overhead, some perpendicular to the sides, and others float in mid-air like broken piano keys, leading to an unknown void.

Lucian is trying to take a step forward.

That feeling was extremely strange.

He was clearly walking uphill, but his body told him he was going downhill. When he finished climbing a flight of stairs and looked up, he found himself back at the starting point.

Moreover, an invisible sense of oppression began to erode his mind.

Lucian felt his mind becoming sluggish.

"Is this what they call the Ravenclaw Trials World?"

Lucian stood still, closed his eyes, and activated his brain-blocking technique.

When I opened my eyes again, the world had changed.

Under the absolute rational perspective of the Mind's Vision, those magnificent and complex stone steps all shed their gray-white surface, transforming into countless intertwined and chaotic magical threads.

Most of the threads are tangled, knotted knots.

There was only one line, which, although visually pointed to the abyss, led straight to the exit in the flow of magic.

The deadlock in this space lies in:

The path seen by the eyes is an illusion; the direction in which the magic flows is the truth.

It tests whether challengers dare to defy their biological survival instincts and embrace the truth that exists beyond sight.

Lucian walked to the edge of a broken platform.

In his naked eye, there was a bottomless abyss ahead, and below him, an endless gray void. One wrong step and he would be shattered to pieces.

That primal fear of falling screamed in his genes, trying to stop his leg muscles from working.

But in his view, it was a road to heaven.

"The eyes can lie."

Lucian, expressionless, with his hands behind his back, stepped out into the abyss.

The feeling of weightlessness hits instantly.

But he did not fall.

The moment his feet left the platform, the world turned upside down.

He "fell" upwards.

What was once an abyss has become an exit, and what was once the sky has become a path beneath our feet.

Lucian landed firmly on solid ground.

Looking back, the Penrose Staircase maze that had trapped countless brilliant minds is now nothing more than a poorly drawn picture hanging on the wall.

A gate of light slowly formed in front of him.

Lucian bowed to the Ravenclaw statue at the entrance and said calmly:

"Truth often lies hidden in the blind spots of intuition."