Nyx stepped into the glyph.
And the world changed.
There was no corridor, no teleport shimmer, no loading screen. One heartbeat, he was in Hollowbone. The next—he was standing inside a blood-red forest under a sky of mirrored flame.
The trees pulsed like veins. Their leaves dripped crimson mana. The ground breathed beneath his feet. Every root, branch, and shadow was alive—not just with magic, but with intention.
Welcome to: BLOODGARDEN PROTOCOL
Status: Active Arena Construct [Sentient]
Host: Red Queen Seraphyne
Terrain: Shifting / Hostile / Adaptive
Nyx exhaled. "It's a dungeon that thinks."
Branches shifted behind him. He spun—and deflected a thorn-laced whip with a snap command.
Defense Protocol: Thorn Disarm Enabled
The whip unraveled mid-air, falling as harmless silk. But its owner was already leaping—a beast of bone and crystal, four-legged, wearing a face like a cracked porcelain doll. It hissed a glyphic scream and charged.
Nyx summoned the Fractal Blade, fed it new rules.
Blade Extension = Predictive Length
Edge Priority = Emotion Signature Targeting
The beast lunged.
The blade moved on its own—slicing through the creature's memory core, erasing its past, present, and purpose.
It collapsed in a burst of red mist.
Then the trees applauded.
Yes—applauded.
The Bloodgarden responded to violence like music. Every move Nyx made rewrote its rhythm.
He realized then: it wasn't just an arena.
It was a composer.
And he was playing its game.
A voice echoed from the canopy above.
"Beautiful," said Seraphyne. "You even killed it with mercy. That blade doesn't destroy. It liberates."
Nyx didn't look up. "Stop hiding. I don't do boss fights by voiceover."
"Oh, but this isn't a boss fight," she replied, descending slowly—riding on a throne of thorns and roses, her bare feet dangling. "This is a duet."
She landed softly. Her aura spread across the arena. The trees leaned toward her, the blood in the air slowed, even time hesitated.
Combat Flag Raised: Seraphyne [Red Queen Class]
Arena Modifier: Emotion-Based Threadcasting Active
Danger Level: Divine / Adaptive / Unknown
"Fight me," she said softly, "not to win, but to be seen."
Nyx grinned. "Let's compose something brutal."
Their powers clashed instantly.
Her spell-threads were made of living memory—each cast a story, each defense a trauma re-lived. He countered with logic weapons, recursive loops, and debug fields. The ground shifted with every exchange. Trees bloomed and died. Mana screamed.
For once, Nyx wasn't just overpowering. He was dancing.
Every move was a line of code. Every spell, a line of poetry. The Garden roared in approval.
Then Seraphyne stopped.
Blood trickled from her nose.
She smiled. "You're better than I hoped."
A thorn pierced her own chest. She bled red... and white.
"What the hell are you doing?" Nyx asked.
"I'm rewriting myself," she whispered. "To survive you."
And the Garden screamed.