Raen woke up in a place he didn't recognize. His head was pounding, and his body felt like it had been dragged through fire. Every muscle ached, every nerve felt raw, as if he had been torn apart and stitched back together.
The last thing he remembered was pain—sharp, searing pain that had consumed him during the ritual. The Black Sun Syndicate had forced him into it, their cold laughter echoing in his ears as he screamed.
He was a lean, sharp-eyed fourteen-year-old with messy dark hair and amber-gold eyes. His light tan skin bears quiet scars from captivity, and his wiry frame speaks of speed, not strength.
He didn't know what the ritual was for, but it had felt like his veins were being filled with molten metal, like his very soul was being ripped from his body.
Now, he was here. Wherever "here" was.
The ground beneath him was hard and cold, like stone. He pushed himself up, his hands trembling as he tried to steady himself.
The air felt strange—too still, too quiet. It was as if the world around him was holding its breath, waiting for something to happen.
Raen looked around. He was in some kind of arena. The walls were high and smooth, made of a material he couldn't name.
They seemed to stretch endlessly upward, disappearing into a dim, grayish light that came from nowhere and everywhere at once. The light didn't feel natural.
It didn't feel like sunlight or firelight. It felt artificial, like the place itself was alive and watching him.
His heart was pounding in his chest. He didn't know where he was or how he had gotten here. All he knew was that he didn't belong.
And then, something happened.
A screen appeared in front of him. It wasn't a physical screen—it was like a projection, floating in the air. Raen stumbled back, his breath catching in his throat. The screen was filled with text, words that seemed to form out of thin air.
[MAIN SYSTEM MENU]
Raen blinked, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. The words were clear, but they didn't make any sense.
[MAIN SYSTEM MENU: Veyra – The Wagering System]
Contender Name: [Raen Solmere]
Current Betters: [God of Ruin | God of Silence]
Divine Wager Link: [Stable – Dual Influence]
Active Wagers: [1 Active]
Sol Crystal Reserves: [4 Unspent]
Combat Standing: [Pending | Region: Vault Gaol]
Last Wager Outcome: [Error]
Pathway Trajectory: [None]
Pillar Status: [None]
---
Raen stared at the screen, his mind racing. Contender? Wagers? Sol Crystals? None of it meant anything to him. He didn't understand what was happening.
Below the main menu, there were more options:
Pending Notifications:
[New Challenger: ID#40312 – Unknown Affiliation]
[A Wager Has Been Placed Upon You – Origin: House of Divine Deities (Four)]
[Sol Crystal Overload Warning – Use Recommended]
[Unauthorized Faction Interference Detected: Trace to "Unchained"]
[Echo of Presence Forming ]
---
Select an Action:
[Open Challenger Details]
[View Divine Wagers]
[Convert or Imprint Sol Crystals]
[Modify Battle Stakes or Clause Terms]
[Inspect Wager Conditions – Current Hosts: House of Retribution | Pactguard Overwatch]
[Access The House Network – Restricted Portals: Broken Die | Logs | Bestiary | Trait Fragment | Detectives]
[Stabilize Pillar Pathway – Overdrive]
[View Territorial Map – Sol Domain: Sector 9, Luminara Tide #2]
[Check Pact Integrity – Divine Clauses Enforcement Status]
Raen didn't move. He couldn't. His mind was stuck on the words, trying to piece together what they meant. A wager has been placed on me? He didn't even know what that meant.
His breathing quickened. This wasn't just some hallucination. The screen was real, and it was talking to him. It was treating him like he belonged here, like he was part of some game he didn't understand.
Raen's hands clenched into fists. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want any part of this. But the screen was still there, waiting for him to make a choice.
---
As Raen stood there, frozen in the strange arena, his mind began to wander. He thought of Veywick, his village. The place where he had grown up, where he had been happy. Or at least, where he had thought he was happy.
Veywick…
The name alone brought a flood of memories. The small, quiet village nestled in the shadow of the mountains. The smell of pine trees and fresh earth after a rain.
The sound of the river that ran through the village, its waters clear and cold. The way the sun would set behind the mountains, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
It had been home.
But now, Veywick was gone.
The Black Sun Syndicate had come in the night, their black cloaks blending into the darkness.
Raen had been asleep when they attacked. He had woken to the sound of screams, the smell of smoke. He had run outside, only to see his village burning.
The flames… they were everywhere. The houses, the fields, even the trees—everything was on fire. The air was thick with smoke, and the heat… it was unbearable.
Raen had tried to fight. He had grabbed a pitchfork, had tried to defend his home. But it had been no use. The Black Sun Syndicate was too strong, too ruthless. They had cut through the villagers like they were nothing.
I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't stop them. I couldn't save anyone.
Raen had seen his father die.
His father had been a strong man, a farmer who had worked the land his whole life.
He had been brave, too. When the Black Sun Syndicate had come, he had stood his ground, had tried to protect his family.
He fought them. He fought them with everything he had. But they… they cut him down like he was nothing. I watched him fall. I watched him die.
Raen's chest tightened as the memory played in his mind. His father's body, lying lifeless on the ground. The blood pooling beneath him. The look in his eyes as he took his last breath.
I should have done something. I should have fought harder. I should have saved him.
And then, they had taken him.
The Black Sun Syndicate had dragged him away, had forced him into the ritual. He didn't know why they had chosen him, but he had been powerless to stop them.
The ritual… it was like nothing I've ever felt. The pain… it was everywhere. In my veins, in my bones, in my soul. I thought I was going to die. I wanted to die.
Now, he was here. Alone.
Raen thought of his mother. She had been in the house when the attack had started. He didn't know if she had survived. He didn't know if anyone had survived.
He couldn't finish the thought. The idea of his mother lying dead in the ruins of their home was too much to bear.
And then there was Elia.
Elia was his little sister. She was only ten years old, with bright eyes and a smile that could light up a room. Raen had always looked out for her, had always tried to protect her.
Raen's chest tightened as he thought of Elia. He didn't know where she was, if she was even alive. The thought of her being alone, scared, hurt—it was too much.
Raen's hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms. He had failed his father, his mother, his sister. He had failed everyone.
And now, he was here, in this strange place, being forced into some kind of game he didn't understand.
What is this place? Why am I here? What do they want from me?
Raen's breathing quickened. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want any part of this. But he didn't have a choice.
The screen was still there, waiting for him to make a decision.
Raen took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He didn't know what was going on, but he couldn't just stand here. He had to do something.
I have to survive. For Elia. For Mother. For Father. I have to survive.
The screen in front of Raen flickered, and a new message appeared. The text was cold and impersonal, like it was being generated by some kind of machine.
[Trial Assignment]
> [Combatant Identified: Raen Solmere
(Status: Pending Authorization)]
> [Opponent Identified: Korin Velst (Status: Active Contender) ]
- Wager Type: Direct Duel – Single Combat
- Victory Condition: Opponent incapacitated or forfeits
Raen's stomach dropped. Combat? He wasn't a fighter. He didn't know how to fight.
Before he could react, he heard footsteps. Someone was coming.
Raen turned, his eyes scanning the arena. A man stepped into the light. He was older, maybe in his forties, with a weathered face and a tired expression.
His movements were careful, like he was used to being in places like this.
The man's eyes flicked to the screen, then to Raen. He sighed, shaking his head.
"A kid?" he muttered. Then, his expression hardened. "Damn it."
Raen didn't know what to say. He didn't know who this man was or why he was here. All he knew was that the man was looking at him like he was an enemy.
The man—Korin Velst, according to the screen—took a step forward. His eyes were sharp, focused.
"Listen, kid," Korin said, his voice low. "I don't know how you ended up here, but this isn't a game. You don't want to fight me."
Raen swallowed hard. He didn't want to fight anyone. But the screen was still there, the words "A Wager Has Been Placed Upon You" flashing in the corner of his vision.
—
[Opponent Backstory Initiated]
Korin Velst wasn't always a fighter. Once, he had been a blacksmith, a man who worked with his hands to create things of beauty and strength. He had lived in a small town on the edge of the wilderness, far from the politics and power struggles of the larger cities.
His life had been simple, but it had been good. He had a wife, Lira, and a daughter, Maren. They were his world.
But then, the Black Sun Syndicate came.
They had swept through the town like a plague, burning and killing everything in their path. Korin had tried to fight them off, but he was just one man. They had taken his family, had forced him to watch as they were dragged away.
That was when the system had found him.
Korin didn't know how it worked, but he knew what it wanted. It wanted him to fight. To survive. To win.
At first, he had resisted. He didn't want to be part of some twisted game. But then, he had seen the wagers. The system had offered him a chance to win his family back.
So, he had fought.
He had fought in countless battles, had faced opponents stronger and faster than he was. He had won some, and he had lost some. But no matter how many battles he won, his family was still out of reach.
The system was cruel. It dangled the possibility of freedom in front of him, only to snatch it away at the last moment.
Korin had grown bitter over time. He had become a hardened, ruthless fighter, willing to do whatever it took to survive. But deep down, he was still the man who had once been a blacksmith. He still dreamed of the day when he would see his family again.
---
Korin looked at Raen, his expression unreadable. He could see the fear in the boy's eyes, the way his hands trembled.
"You don't belong here," Korin said, his voice softer now. "This place… it's not for people like you."
Raen didn't know what to say. He could see the pain in Korin's eyes, the weight of everything he had been through.
"I… I don't want to fight," Raen said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Korin sighed. "Neither do I, kid. But the system doesn't care what we want. It only cares about the game."
Raen's heart was pounding. He didn't know what to do. He didn't want to fight Korin, but he didn't have a choice.
The countdown should have begun. It didn't.
Instead, the system hesitated. A ripple ran through the air, like a disturbance in water. The screen flickered, the text glitching and distorting.
The mechanical voice that had been so cold and precise now stuttered, breaking apart into static.
[Initializing...]
… … …
Error.
Unauthorized Contender Detected.
Recalculating—
Raen froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn't understand what was happening, but he could feel it—something was wrong. The system, whatever it was, seemed to be struggling to process his existence.
Korin stiffened, his eyes narrowing as he glanced at the flickering screen. "What the hell's going on?" he muttered, his voice low and tense. He had been in these fights before, had seen the system work with cold, unfeeling efficiency. It had never stalled like this.
Raen's stomach twisted. He didn't know what the system was, but even he could tell it wasn't supposed to act like this. The air felt heavier, charged with an energy that made his skin crawl.
And then, he felt it.
A presence. Something beyond the arena, beyond the system. It was silent, unseen, but undeniable. It was watching.
The system tried to adapt. The screen flickered again, the text reforming into something new.
[Recalibration Complete.]
[Combat Initiated: 10… 9… 8…]
Korin's eyes snapped back to Raen. His expression was hard, but there was something in his gaze—something almost like pity. "Kid," he said, his voice low and urgent. "I don't know what's going on, but this isn't normal. The system doesn't make mistakes. If it's struggling with you… that means you're different. And different doesn't last long here."
Raen didn't know what to say. His mind was racing, his body tense. He didn't want to fight, but the countdown was still ticking.
[7… 6… 5…]
Korin shifted his stance, his body lowering into a fighter's crouch. His movements were fluid, practiced. He had done this before—too many times.
Raen's hands clenched into fists. He didn't know how to fight. He had never been in a real fight before. But he couldn't just stand there. He had to do something.
I have to survive. For Elia. For Mother. For Father. I have to survive.
[4… 3… 2…]
Korin's eyes locked onto Raen's. "Last chance, kid," he said, his voice grim. "If you don't fight, you're dead."
Raen's breath came in short, shallow gasps. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his ears.
[1…]
The screen flashed.
[Begin.]
Korin moved first.
He was fast—faster than Raen had expected. One moment, he was standing several feet away; the next, he was closing the distance between them, his body a blur of motion. Raen barely had time to react, his instincts screaming at him to move.
He stumbled backward, his feet scrambling for purchase on the smooth stone floor. Korin's fist shot out, aiming for Raen's chest. Raen twisted to the side, the punch grazing his shoulder instead. The force of it sent him spinning, his balance faltering.
Korin didn't let up. He pressed the attack, his movements precise and relentless. He wasn't trying to kill Raen—not yet. He was testing him, probing for weaknesses.
Raen dodged another punch, his body moving on instinct. He didn't know how to fight, but his body seemed to remember something—some primal survival instinct that kicked in when his mind couldn't keep up.
Korin's next strike came low, a sweeping kick aimed at Raen's legs. Raen jumped back, but not fast enough. Korin's foot clipped his ankle, sending him crashing to the ground.
Raen hit the floor hard, the impact knocking the breath out of him. He rolled to the side just as Korin's fist came down where his head had been. The sound of Korin's knuckles hitting the stone echoed through the arena.
Raen scrambled to his feet, his chest heaving. His shoulder ached where Korin's punch had grazed him, and his ankle throbbed from the kick. He didn't have time to think about the pain. Korin was already moving again.
This time, Raen didn't wait for Korin to attack. He lunged forward, his fist swinging wildly. It was a desperate move, born of panic rather than skill.
Korin sidestepped easily, his movements almost casual. He caught Raen's arm as it swung past him, twisting it behind Raen's back. Raen cried out, the pain shooting through his shoulder.
"You're not a fighter," Korin said, his voice calm but firm. "You don't belong here."
Raen gritted his teeth, trying to pull free. But Korin's grip was like iron.
"I don't want to hurt you, kid," Korin said. "But if you don't surrender, I don't have a choice."
Raen's mind raced. He couldn't give up. He couldn't lose. Not here. Not now.
With a burst of strength, Raen twisted his body, breaking free of Korin's grip. He stumbled backward, putting distance between them.
Korin watched him, his expression unreadable. "You're stubborn," he said. "I'll give you that."
Raen didn't respond. His chest was heaving, his body trembling with exhaustion and fear. But he couldn't give up. He wouldn't.
Korin sighed. "Alright, kid. If that's how you want to play it."
He moved again, faster this time. Raen barely had time to react before Korin was on him, his fists a blur of motion. Raen blocked one punch, then another, but the third hit him square in the chest.
The force of the blow sent him flying backward, his body slamming into the arena wall. He slid to the ground, his vision swimming.
Korin stood over him, his expression grim. "It's over, kid," he said. "You're not going to win this."
Raen's vision blurred, his body screaming in pain. But he couldn't give up. He couldn't.
I have to survive. I have to survive.
With the last of his strength, Raen pushed himself to his feet. His legs wobbled, but he stood.
Korin's eyes widened in surprise. "You're tougher than you look," he said.
Raen didn't respond. He couldn't. All he could do was stand there, his body trembling, his mind focused on one thought.
I have to survive.
Korin's expression hardened. "I'm sorry, kid," he said.
And then, he attacked.