The city burned. The monsters roared. And those left behind fought to protect their fallen teammates, hoping they would survive whatever awaited them beyond the void.
Leon stood at the forefront of the battle, his muscles aching from the repeated impact of his fists against hardened flesh. He had always relied on brute force to win his fights, always trusted his body to carry him through. But this was different. The creatures kept coming, and for the first time, he felt something gnaw at him—doubt. He wasn't the strongest anymore, not in a world where beings beyond comprehension had rewritten the rules. His strength had always been his shield, but now he wondered if it was enough. Each kill brought him closer to his trial, but in the back of his mind, a thought lingered: What if it wasn't his fists that would be tested, but something deeper? Something he wasn't ready to face?
Frieda moved with precision, her breath steady, her mind calculating. Every strike she landed was intentional, every dodge perfectly timed. She was built for efficiency, trained to survive. And yet, there was a hollowness in her actions. The years she had spent fighting had made her a weapon, but what was a weapon without a purpose? She had followed Jarad because he had given her one. Now, with him gone, she felt untethered. The creatures she killed were nothing more than obstacles, her tally rising toward the inevitable trial that awaited her. What would it demand of her? Would she finally have to confront the question she had spent her entire life avoiding—who was she beyond the battlefield?
Maya's hands were slick with blood. She wasn't a soldier. She had spent her life in laboratories, dissecting problems, analyzing solutions. But now, she was here, knee-deep in the horrors she had once only studied. She had seen firsthand what the Orphanage had done to Jarad and his team. She had witnessed the grotesque experiments, the lines of morality blurred beyond recognition. And now, she was forced to kill. Every monster that fell by her hands was another reminder that she had always been complicit in violence—just in a different way. The trial was coming, and she feared it wouldn't just test her strength, but her soul. Did she deserve redemption? Or would she be forced to accept the monster she had always been?
Evie's breath came in short gasps as she fired another shot, her hands trembling. She had never been meant for this. She was the one Jarad protected, the one who had always stood behind him, shielded from the worst of the world. But now, she had no choice. Every kill brought her closer to the moment she had been dreading. What would the trial demand of her? She wasn't strong like Leon, precise like Frieda, or intelligent like Maya. She was just Evie, the girl who had spent her life hiding in the shadows of others. But she couldn't hide anymore. Not from this world. Not from the system. Not from herself. As she watched another monster collapse at her feet, she realized there was no turning back. The moment she reached her fifth kill, she would face the truth she had spent her entire life avoiding.
And one by one, they vanished into the darkness of their own trials.
Jarad moved through the endless abyss of his trial, each step met with resistance as if wading through invisible currents. The space around him twisted, shifting between memories and fabricated nightmares. Phantoms of his past opponents emerged, their forms grotesquely exaggerated, pushing his combat prowess to its absolute limit.
With every clash, he adapted. His blade danced through the air, cutting down illusions that felt too real, their blood staining his hands before vanishing into mist. The system demanded more than just brute strength—it tested his will, his endurance, his ability to evolve.
Then, the real challenge began.
A monstrous entity loomed before him, towering and shifting with grotesque mutations. It bore the features of all he had slain, a twisted amalgamation of his past kills. Its many arms brandished weapons—blades, claws, spiked whips—all aimed at him. The system's voice echoed in his mind:
[Conquer the beast, or be consumed.]
The creature struck first, its massive claw swiping through the air. Jarad barely dodged, rolling to the side as he retaliated with a lightning-fast thrust. His blade met resistance, sinking into the shifting mass, but the wound sealed instantly. A whip lashed toward him; he caught it mid-air, yanking the creature forward before launching a brutal knee into its twisted face.
The fight escalated.
The beast moved with impossible speed, adapting to his techniques. Each strike became a test of precision, each dodge a calculated risk. Jarad shifted tactics, feinting attacks, striking weak points, using every ounce of combat knowledge he possessed. Sweat dripped down his brow, his muscles screamed, but he refused to falter.
A claw tore across his chest, drawing blood. The pain was real. Too real.
Gritting his teeth, he activated his last resort. Channeling his power, he launched himself into the air, twisting mid-fall to deliver a devastating downward strike. His sword cleaved into the beast's core, splitting it open. A deafening screech echoed as it writhed, darkness pouring from its wounds.
But as the monster dissolved into nothingness, a new form emerged from the shadows—a mirror image of himself. The reflection stepped forward, identical in every way, except for the cold, merciless glint in its eyes. The system whispered:
[Face your true enemy.]
Jarad barely had time to react before his doppelgänger lunged. Their blades met in a violent clash, sparks flying as they traded blows with identical speed and precision. Every move he made was mirrored, every feint countered. His dark self fought with ruthless efficiency, embodying all of his worst instincts—his anger, his mercilessness, his thirst for vengeance.
A fist slammed into his gut, forcing him back. The shadow Jarad smirked. "You hesitate," it mocked. "That's why you'll lose."
Gritting his teeth, Jarad shifted his stance. He had to think beyond brute force—this was a battle of mind as much as body. He feigned weakness, baiting his counterpart into overextending. The moment it struck, he twisted, driving his blade through its chest.
For a second, it grinned. Then its form shattered like glass.
[Trial Complete.]
The abyss cracked, and light swallowed him whole.
---
Toni's trial was a different beast entirely.
She stood in an arena of shifting sands, the sun burning down from a sky too vast, too infinite. Around her, figures emerged—twisted forms of those she had once fought beside, their faces hollow and accusing. The system whispered in her mind:
[You must conquer the past to claim your future.]
Her first opponent lunged—a specter of her childhood friend, someone she had failed to save. Panic surged, but she gritted her teeth, rolling aside and retaliating with a precise, brutal strike. The specter dissipated into smoke, but more followed.
One after another, the ghosts of her past attacked, forcing her to confront her regrets, her doubts, her fears. Each battle was a lesson, a test of her resolve. By the time the final adversary fell—a twisted version of herself, full of rage and self-loathing—Toni stood bloodied but unbowed.
A door of light appeared before her.
[Trial Complete. Claim Your Strength.]
Stepping forward, she embraced whatever lay ahead.