23 hours, 58 minutes, and 5 seconds.
That was how long it had been since they had arrived in this place—this bleak, grey holding space where nothing cast a shadow and time felt as though it crawled. From the moment the imp had declared them trial takers, a sense of unreality had draped over everyone like a second skin.
Every group was now lined up. Reed stood with his squad in a tight huddle, all of them speaking in low tones, checking equipment, glancing occasionally at the other groups with a mixture of wariness and shared dread. They were surrounded by students in full expedition gear—leather armor etched with their squad symbols, weapons latched to belts, cloaks tied down tight. Each team had its signature color sewn into their garments: red stripes, blue hoods, green scarves—each one a symbol of pride, perhaps soon to be an elegy. Nearby, extra supply packs lay neatly on the ground, untouched, waiting for their owners' return… if they returned at all.
In the far corner, the five students who had been here before—Layne, Jaden, Sarah, Kaley, and Trishy—stood close together. Even they were quiet. Veterans, in a sense, and yet even they looked pale. Trishy stared down at her gloves, flexing her fingers nervously. Kaley kept glancing upward, as though expecting the sky to fall.
A slow, chilling silence had overtaken the room. The tension wasn't loud—it was quiet in the most terrifying way. No idle chatter, no jokes. Just silence broken by the occasional clink of buckles and soft breaths. Then, like the cracking of a dam, a booming male voice erupted from nowhere and everywhere at once.
"10."
The room froze.
"9."
Reed's heart began to pound. Not fast—but heavy. Like war drums before a charge.
"8."
A few heads turned toward the ceiling, though there was nothing above them but void.
"7."
Juni clutched her staff tighter. Sarah reached out and gripped Jaden's arm.
"6."
Across the hall, Yanis exhaled through his nose, fists clenched.
"5."
Reed glanced at his team one last time. No words. Just a nod.
"4."
The world seemed to narrow.
"3."
The air got heavier.
"2."
One heartbeat.
"1."
A pause.
"Commence…"
Then came the blink.
It wasn't light. It wasn't sound. It was as if his existence had jumped tracks—like he skipped a frame of reality. One instant he stood in the grey hall; the next, he was under a pale, dead sky, his boots sinking slightly into wet soil. The world around him was a wasteland—an open field littered with jagged, unnatural holes that looked more like open wounds than terrain. The craters varied in size—some wide and shallow, others deep enough to hide a person whole. The grass had long died. The trees, brittle and skeletal, stood like forgotten sentries. A haunting gray hue seemed to permeate everything, as though the world had been washed of color.
Then, before he could move, a glowing window blinked into view. Hovering silently in front of him, yellow-tinted and semi-transparent. Its white text shimmered.
"Error… Error… Location teleportation Error…"
Reed's blood went cold.
An error?
Was this not the trial? Were they not meant to be here? And if not… then where were they?
Before he could process the implications, a sharp whistle split the air. One—then another. High-pitched and descending rapidly.
Then the world exploded.
A barrage of detonations tore across the field. Fire bloomed in violent flashes. Reed barely had time to react before he was thrown backwards, the blast ripping through the earth behind him. Cries erupted everywhere. Students were sent flying like dolls, some crashing against rocks or skidding into craters. Others vanished in the concussive blast.
Yanis and his squad were hit directly. Their carefully formed defensive ring collapsed as an explosion detonated beneath their feet, sending them sprawling. Reed caught a glimpse of Hare—young, terrified, his hands over his ears, his face twisted in horror. His squadmates cried, some collapsed, too stunned to scream.
Lannis—always the master of calm, always the analyst—looked shaken, her eyes wide and searching. Marek, usually the group's clown, now wore a grim, focused expression. Reed had never seen him like that before.
Reed himself felt the fear creeping in—but oddly, something else too. A strange stillness beneath the chaos. A calm. It wasn't natural. It was like the idea of death, the scent of smoke, the chill of it all… was soothing.
No.
That wasn't right.
That wasn't him.
It had to be the trial. Some sort of illusion. A mental trick. That's all.
But before he could argue with himself, another blast struck nearby—and this time, Reed didn't stay standing. He was flung backward, vision spinning, sound tearing away into white.
Darkness swallowed him.
Hell.
That was the only word that fit.
When Reed awoke, the world was broken.
All around him, students screamed, cried, and bled. The ground was a twisted ruin—blackened and jagged, split into open scars. Steam hissed from the cracks. The smell—blood, burnt fabric, scorched grass—was suffocating. Smoke clung to the air like a shroud. The sky above was no longer blue but a deep violet-gray, bruised and unnatural.
His mind swam, thoughts disjointed. His battle robes were torn, smeared in soot and darker things. His arms were cut. Fingers numb. Vision unfocused.
Still, he moved.
Find them. Find your squad.
Marek.
Reed spotted the figure half-buried in ash and rubble. At first he didn't recognize him. But the chest rose and fell. Still alive. Reed's knees nearly gave from relief.
But where was Lannis?
He looked, but saw nothing—no movement, no glint of metal, not even a sound. Just devastation.
He forced himself upright, staggered forward.
"This place is too big to search by myself," he muttered under his breath. "It seems I need to summon them earlier than I thought."
He closed his eyes, focused his will. His body pulsed with shadowed energy. The onyx tusk emerged beside him in a burst of darkness, tall and immovable. Beside it, the salamander uncoiled, shimmering slightly under the gray light.
"Search. Search for the girl I call Lannis," Reed commanded, his voice low but clear. "And send a signal when you find her."
The salamander hissed and slithered off, disappearing over the ridge.
Reed turned to Marek. He dropped to his knees beside him and began shaking his shoulder.
"Marek. Wake up."
The boy groaned, barely conscious.
"W-Water… please…"
Without hesitation, Reed unclipped his canteen and pressed it to Marek's lips. Marek drank greedily, coughing a little but recovering.
They sat at the lip of a crater, huddled under what little cover they had. Explosions still rang out in the distance.
Then, another window blinked into view.
SURVIVE: 5 HOURS 46 MINUTES 28 SECONDS
Reed stared at it.
So that was it. Not an objective. Not a puzzle. Not a goal.
Just… survive.
At that exact moment, a distant roar echoed—and Reed felt the link with his salamander pulse brightly in his mind.
Lannis had been found.