ã€ŠTrials of the Omniverse: The Journey Homeã€‹


 Chapter 1: So this is what itâ€™s like to be popular, huh?

    Another day of clear blue skies. A cool breeze wafts through the air while sunrays filter between the trees. Students flood out the school gates, immersed in typical weekend chatter. Like any other day, I make my way through the park.

    However, lately things have been a bit, well? Different¡­

    ¡°Is that really him?¡±

    ¡°Who? That guy? Never seen him before.¡±

    ¡°Dude, have you been living under a rock? Have you not heard of Asrion?¡±

    ¡°Who¡¯s that? Some cartoon character?¡±

    My mouth twitches at the comment. Who does that guy think he is? You think I named myself? Unfortunately for you, I¡¯m remembering that face of yours. If we ever meet again, you¡¯ll definitely get sent home crying.

    But I mean, he does have a point. It wasn¡¯t always like this. I used to be just an average, run-of-the-mill student¡ªdecent grades, but nothing special. But then one day, I decided to shake up dull routine a bit. And then what do you know? Success kind of just followed, and consequently, money and fame. You know, normal high school stuff.

    Okay, okay, who am I kidding? There¡¯s no way your average guy would have this many people gawking at him. I¡¯m not even doing anything special, just walking home like the rest of you!

    Look left, look right, heck, even in front of me. Every time, I¡¯m met by the awestruck expressions of kids in uniform, frozen in place at the sight of me. Stop looking at me like I¡¯m some sort of celebrity! Don¡¯t you guys have places to be?

    What, are you guys expecting something? What should I do, pull a magic trick, do a little dance, drizzle some money in front of your faces? Just go home like the good kids you are!

    Amongst those staring at me, I can spot some familiar faces. Hmm, I can put a name to most of them, but I haven¡¯t really interacted with them much, some people I sit near too as well. Wait¡­ Aren¡¯t those guys the ones who bullied me back then?

    Huh? Did they just flinch? All I did was look at them!

    If I were alone, I¡¯d have burst out laughing by now. This whole situation is utterly hilarious. It¡¯s so tempting to just start bragging right in their faces, but I wouldn¡¯t have gotten this far if I indulged myself on every whim.

    I turn onto a quieter, more isolated street, passing by play areas and residential blocks until I reach a four-way intersection where I find myself waiting to cross.

    I let out a massive sigh¡ªor would that count as a moan? Either way, some passers-by look at me, taken aback.

    Ugh, I¡¯m so exhausted. If nothing comes up, I can look forward to a well-needed lazy weekend. A weekend of no work¡­ Heh heh, how long I¡¯ve waited for one-

    Ping

    The sound my phone snaps me back to reality. Who could be messaging me at this time?

    Pulling out my phone, I stare blankly at the message. A number I don¡¯t recognise, with a rather outrageous request too. Have you ever heard of something called ¡®courtesy¡¯? Asking me to meet up without telling me who you are is the epitome of rudeness.

    I don¡¯t have a solid idea of who it might be. If they had something important to say, they could¡¯ve just texted me, right? Maybe the information is sensitive, or it¡¯s some kind of surprise. Best-case scenario, it¡¯s an admirer¡ªpreferably female. Worst-case...? Who would even try something like that? It¡¯d be a pretty stupid idea. I may not be a genius, but it¡¯s obvious that attempting to pull something like that would never work in your favour.

    Yeah, it¡¯s decided. I might as well go. Curiosity wins, fatigue loses¡­ for now at least.

    It shouldn¡¯t take that long; the meeting place is only a few blocks away.

    After crossing the road, I take a different route than usual, weaving my way through buildings and houses for a few minutes.

    Passing through one last alley, I arrive at the designated spot¡ªa small, tucked-away concrete square wedged between a few buildings. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth, and the absence of the wind makes for an unsettling silence. The perfect spot for some shady business; it checks all the boxes.

    Hmm, should I go back? They say first impressions are everything, and I¡¯m not really feeling it right now. Well, turning back would be a hassle, having already gone through the effort of coming here and all. Though maybe that¡¯s just the sunk cost fallacy speaking on my behalf.

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    They¡¯re not even here yet, but after coming all this way, I don¡¯t mind waiting for a while. Should I send them a text? Wait, did I even reply to their message in the first place? They might not show up at all.

    About ten minutes pass, and I¡¯m on the verge of submitting to boredom. It¡¯s been long enough, so I guess it¡¯s time to go. It¡¯s annoying to have wasted time, but in the end, my own dumb curiosity is to blame, so I don¡¯t have any right to complain.

    Just as I¡¯m about to leave, footsteps echo from around the corner.

    Finally! Took you long enough! I wonder who it is-

    Wait a second¡­ aren¡¯t there too many footsteps?

    Multiple guys turn the corner, one after another. None of them are particularly bulky, but they¡¯re not horribly built either. They move with a confidence that sends a chill down my spine.

    An ambush, isn¡¯t it? Well, not really, since I came here voluntarily, fully aware that this was a possible outcome. But come on! Who could¡¯ve expected this?

    The flow of people stops. Five guys in total line up in front of me, blocking my only escape route. They¡¯re lined up so perfectly, I half-expected them to break into a dance routine.

    One steps forward, presumably the leader, though he¡¯s the smallest of the bunch.

    ¡°Well, well, look who actually showed up¡± he says. ¡°I really don¡¯t understand the buzz about you.¡±

    You¡¯re not alone there, buddy.

    ¡°I mean.¡± He continues. ¡°Even an idiot would suspect something was off. But it seems like your arrogant ass can¡¯t even manage that.¡±

    Actually, I did kind of see this coming, so I won¡¯t be counting this as a loss on my end. Arrogant though? Feels like he¡¯s just throwing around words.

    I do understand that I¡¯m in a rather perilous situation, but there¡¯s just one question nagging at me that I just have to ask.

    ¡°Uhm, who are you meant to be again?¡±

    The little man¡¯s temper flares, his face twisting into a variety of indescribable shapes.

    It was just an honest question; chill out man!

    ¡°See what I mean!¡± He shouts. ¡°So fucking arrogant! People like you make me sick!!¡±

    Shortly after saying this, his face unexpectedly breaks into a spine-tingling grin. Without the need for any words, the gravity of the situation finally dawns on me.

    A familiar sensation creeps throughout my body. Cold sweat. I used to feel it when on the verge of missing deadlines, but who knew I¡¯d feel it now?

    What can I do against five people? I¡¯m cornered, walls flanking me and on either side. I¡¯m effectively trapped like a rat. There¡¯s no way I¡¯m escaping this, let alone getting past the cordon in front of me.

    ¡°Keeping quiet, huh? Where¡¯s that shitty bravado of yours now?¡± He bursts out laughing, his crew joins in, their chuckles grating on my nerves. Despite ensuring that my composure doesn¡¯t leak, I guess that subtle change in behaviour revealed a lot.

    Now¡¯s not the time to think of a dry comeback. I need a plan, and fast. I may have taken some martial arts lessons, but against multiple opponents, it¡¯s almost pointless.

    Crap, one of the guys is charging at me. What should I do¡ªwhat should I do?

    I¡¯m not given any time to decide as the first guy closes in, his footsteps pounding against the cracked pavement. I brace myself, my moist fists clenched.

    He¡¯s coming in fast, but that¡¯s about it. All style, no substance. If this is the level they¡¯re at, maybe I have a shot. I just control the fight, one opponent at a time.

    I take a deep breath and settle into a boxing-like stance. I¡¯ve got no idea what would be effective for a street fight, but I have no better ideas.

    He¡¯s leading with a horrendously balanced punch¡ªit¡¯s telegraphed from a mile away. Should I just kick him?

    I launch a front kick straight to his groin. Why do people in stories avoid this? It¡¯s brutally effective, like a guaranteed critical hit. The guy drops like a stone, writhing on the ground. His friends freeze, and even the little leader¡¯s jaw drops.

    Should I finish him off? He could get back up¡­ or would that be overkill?

    Eh, screw it. After stamping down on his head, he stops moving. There¡¯s no blood, so he¡¯s probably not dead.

    It¡¯s fine, I¡¯ll just claim it was self-defence, or just straight-up lie. Yeah, the latter would be the safest bet in court.

    The remaining four look visibly shaken, especially as I start moving towards them.

    I think I kind of get what the short lad was going on about. Those expressions are really feeding my ego. I switched up so fast it¡¯s actually kind of scary.

    ¡°Who¡¯s next? Just line up right here, single file!¡± I taunt.

    Shit, I¡¯m still outnumbered. Again, maybe they were onto something about my ego.

    Two of them finally step forward, more cautiously this time. The guy on the left winds up for a punch but ends up throwing it too early. I step in close, grab his shoulders and drive my knee into his diaphragm. He crumples to the ground, gasping for air.

    Before I can react, the other grabs me from behind, trying to wrestle me down.

    Seriously? I¡¯m bigger than you, genius. Ever heard of weight classes?

    He grunts as I stamp on his foot, causing him to loosen his grip. I turn around and catch him with a backhand to the jaw. He joins his friend on the ground.

    Finally, the last guy left starts coming at me...

    Wait¡ªwhat? Last guy? Where did that leader go?

    I glance around, and spot him trying to sneak away. What a cheeky little bastard.

    ¡°Hey! You know your buddy is ditching you, right?¡± I signal to the last guy.

    He glances over his shoulder, like the idiot he is. I nail him with a swift kick between the legs and slam him into the pavement.

    Now I¡¯m alone, surrounded by four incapacitated idiots.

    Perfect, just what I need¡ªa pile of bodies around me. I need to catch that little coward before he causes more trouble.

    Was this even a fight? Felt more like a rehearsal. If they¡¯d rushed me all at once, I¡¯d have been screwed. But no¡ªthey came at me one by one, like some sort of wave defence game.

    Just I start in the direction the leader ran, a sudden wave of nausea crashes into me.

    Wait, is it even nausea? My vision blurs, though I don¡¯t feel sick. Did someone hit me?

    Frantically, I whip my head around but see nothing through the haze, just the bodies. Do my other senses even work? I bite my tongue¡ªyep, definitely felt that. So, what the hell is going on?

    I continue to squirm about, searching for the cause as I fail to notice my consciousness slowly slip away.

 Chapter 2: What the hell is that?

    ¡°Urghh¡­¡±

    Groggily, my eyes flutter open, and I realise I¡¯m lying face-down on a smooth, cold surface. This isn¡¯t concrete¡ªno, it¡¯s something else, more like polished stone. What the hell happened? I slowly run my hand along the floor, the texture is unnervingly smooth, almost like marble. As I turn myself over, a blinding light floods my vision.

    "Ah!" I squint against the intense blue glare. Is that... the sky? No, it can¡¯t be, it was beginning to get dark when I finished with the fight. How long have I been out?

    As my eyes adjust to this new level of brightness, I realise what I¡¯m staring at isn¡¯t the sky at all. It¡¯s a ceiling, illuminated by streaks of blue lights embedded within the stone. Wait, a ceiling? My heart skips a beat as I abruptly sit up to scan my surroundings. This isn¡¯t where I was before. I¡¯m inside some kind of massive tunnel made entirely of stone. The ceiling and floor are both unblemished, made of the same smooth stone, while the walls are adorned with simple, chiseled patterns, flanked by half-merged columns at regular intervals. Blue lights snake along the walls and ceiling in lines, casting a chilling glow. Between the pillars, torches burn brilliantly with an unsettling azure flame.

    A bit too much on the blue, don¡¯t you think?

    I dust off my uniform, realising that while I¡¯m still in my own clothes, my bag is missing. A quick pat-down of my pockets reveals that my phone is gone too. Did someone loot me and dump me here? But how? There¡¯s no entrance, just a solid stone wall behind me. The only way out seems to be down the tunnel ahead, though the view is obscured by a thick layer of¡ªsurprise, surprise¡ªblue fog. Fog in a tunnel? Where the hell am I?

    Despite the unsettling situation, I feel strangely calm, almost too calm. It¡¯s unnerving. I know myself well enough, and knowing me, I should be freaking out right now, rolling around on the floor, piss spewing everywhere. Why am I not?

    I shake off the uneasiness. There¡¯s really only one thing I can do, which is to head down the tunnel ahead of me and figure out what¡¯s going on. As I take my first step, my foot nudges something metallic.

    "Huh?"

    Lying on the ground in front of me are a sword and shield, both made entirely of the same blue metal. Seriously? The hilt and handle of the sword is the same material as the blade, and the shield¡¯s handle is no different. It¡¯s like someone took a 3D model, slapped a single texture on the whole thing, and then called it a day. I grab the sword. The metal is cool to the touch, smooth, but the colour is noisy. The variations in the shade of blue give it a rough, almost weathered look, despite its polished feel.

    What the hell are these doing here? If I was kidnapped, my captors wouldn¡¯t leave me with weapons, would they? I¡¯ve also never seen or heard of a material like this. This just makes everything more confusing. But they must be here for a reason, so I might as well take them. It¡¯s not like I have anything else.

    I pick up the shield in my unoccupied left hand, surprised by how light it is. The sword was also decently light too. Well, I might as well give this thing a swing. I test the sword with a few practice swings. I haven¡¯t used a sword in my entire life, the closest thing to it was play-fighting with sticks as a kid. I remember how awkward if felt swinging them, just like it feels now¡­ wait, awkward? I give the sword of couple more swings. No, it seems like I am seeing it right, each of my swings travel in a clean arc. It doesn¡¯t look like expert level swordplay but it definitely at least novice level. When did this happen? I have never, in the entirety of my life, swung a sword. Am I some sort of prodigy? Or is something peculiar up¡­

    I shake off the unease again. There¡¯s no point in overthinking it. I just have to accept it and move on. With that, I start walking down the tunnel, the sound of each footstep reverberating off the smooth stone walls. The scenery doesn¡¯t change¡ªthe same pattern of pillars, torches, and blue lights stretching on endlessly.

    After what feels like ten minutes, I finally see something past the fog. A wall, similar to the one behind me, but different somehow. A large glowing cerulean circle lies in the middle, surrounded by intricate patterns of glowing lines. It looks like some sort of gate. But it¡¯s probably another dead end. Those huge stone walls aren¡¯t just going to open up on their own are they? Even if I asked nicely I bet they still wouldn¡¯t budge. There¡¯s no sort of mechanism here to open it, so it¡¯s probably a dead end?

    My doubts are shattered when I reach out to touch the wall.

    ¡°Gah!¡±

    The tunnel begins to shake violently. I flinch and end up stumbling backward, landing on the ground as the rumbling of stone fills the air. To my amazement, the colossal wall begins to part, revealing a large square chamber beyond. How is this even possible? The stone gate is thick¡ªwhat kind of mechanism could move something this massive?

    The square chamber is empty, it¡¯s basically just a wider version of the same repetitive tunnel, except the floor is now a grid of large, rough stone tiles. It¡¯s eerily quiet, nothing stirring as I step inside. The moment I do, the ground trembles again, sending me crashing to the floor.

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    ¡°Shit¡­¡±

    As I push myself up, I glance back and see that the door has closed behind me. Am I trapped? Maybe not. There¡¯s another door on the far side of the chamber, so there¡¯s still a way out. But before I can make a move, the ground starts to rumble again, why does everything here have to shake so much? However, the tremors are different¡ªthey¡¯re coming from below.

    The floor in front of the opposing gate erupts, throwing up a cloud of dust and sending debris flying in all directions. As the dust settles, a massive hole is revealed, but that¡¯s not what draws my attention. My eyes lock onto what¡¯s emerging from the chasm, the very sight of it makes my blood run cold.

    My heart pounds in my chest, and my legs threaten to give way. The grip on my sword and shield tightens as adrenaline surges through me. But my one and only thought, as I gaze into the monstrous figure before me, is one thing:

    What the hell is that?

    The monster emerges from the cloud of stone dust it kicked into the air. The hole it crawled out of is deep¡ªdid it burrow its way up here? Scary stuff. And given how everything has progressed since I got here, what¡¯s gonna happen next is crystal clear.

    I must fight it.

    An icy dread seeps into my bones as the realisation hits¡ªI have no choice but to fight this thing. Looking back, the blue tunnel, sword and shield, the huge doors. This whole thing is basically screaming dungeon-crawler. It¡¯s basically a clear-the-room-to-progress scenario. Heck, I very well may even be in a game itself. No, never mind, that sounds stupid. Maybe the repetitiveness of this tunnel¡ªno, at this point, ¡°dungeon¡± would probably be more suitable¡ªstruck a chord with me. It felt like whoever made this place was reusing assets.

    Anyway, I need to abandon that train of thought¡ªand fast. This situation is no joke. The sweat on my palms makes it harder to hold onto my sword, forcing me to grip it tighter.

    As for the creature, it resembles a colossal crocodile, twisted into a grotesque mockery of its earthly counterpart, towering nearly as tall as I am, despite being on all fours. But that¡¯s where the similarities end. Its skin is pitch-black, blending into a dark green around its belly. Its claws and teeth are pure white, their intense contrast making it all the more terrifying. Spikes run down its body, from the spine all the way to the tip of its tail, protruding out of its rough skin. Worst of all, it has three glowing red eyes, one on its forehead, surrounded by sinister red markings. And it feels like it¡¯s emitting¡­ darkness? A dark sorta aura pulses around it, rising into the air like a gas before dissipating. This is definitely some kind of boss, and I am definitely not ready to fight it. Whoever put this at the beginning has a terrible sense of game balance.

    The black crocodile begins to slowly stalk towards me. I drop into a stance, armed with my sword and shield. I have no recollection of ever learning a stance like this, but it seems that I''ve run out of time to contemplate. With a shrill, blaring screech, the beast hurtles towards me, a blur of black mass moving with terrifying speed.

    Whether it rams me or bites me, it makes no difference. I pull my shield in front of me, bracing for impact. The creature slams into me head-on. The force of the blow steals my breath away and sends me tumbling backwards. Damn, that hurt like hell¡ªthis is definitely no dream. But how is it so strong? I was putting all my weight into that, yet it knocked me aside like a soda can. Maybe I shouldn¡¯t take it head-on? Who am I kidding? Did you see how fast that thing was? I¡¯d have to know it was coming to have any chance of dodging that!

    It probably managed to generate that much and speed because it had that run-up. If I engage in close quarters, I might have the advantage. I scramble to my feet and rush forwards, closing the gap between us. I¡¯m almost right in front of it now. What can it even do at this range? Bite me? My sword is longer anyway. So what is it even going to do-

    My shield is immediately raised to my side. The metallic clang of the impact resonates throughout the chamber, the force sending me sliding several meters to the left, but I manage to keep upright.

    ¡°Holy shit.¡±

    If I hadn¡¯t seen it wind up its tail like that, and if I¡¯d been even a fraction of a second slower, I would¡¯ve been done for. What kind of crocodile does something like that¡ªswinging its tail around to strike like a hammer? The hit sent me skidding and gave the creature a few meters of distance. A freakish move creating distance for the beast while also attacking the opponent. But I should look on the bright side. If getting in close causes it to perform a risky move like that, putting me in a blind spot, albeit temporarily, I might be able to land a hit.

    With my new plan formulated, I ready myself to charge¡ªbut quickly find myself rolling to the side, swiftly evading another ram attack. Seeing those monstrous teeth bared at me sent a shiver down my spine. Not even giving me a moment to breathe, huh? I close the remaining distance. It once again begins to wind up its tail. Bad move buddy. I forcefully jump upwards. A split-second later, its tail zooms past below me, hurling air into my face. If I hadn¡¯t had tucked in my legs, those spikes on its tail would¡¯ve scraped me. Well anyways, you dumbass monster. The same trick won¡¯t work twice on me. I lunge my sword directly into the monster¡¯s back. It squeals in pain and tries to escape. Nuh uh uh, not on my watch. I¡¯ve got you now, and I don¡¯t intend on letting you get away. I plunge my sword into its black flesh once more. This time, it lets out an ear-splitting screech.

    ¡°Ah!¡±

    My ears start ringing violently. Have I gone deaf? I ignore the pain and continue stabbing. Nothing will stop me until this monster is fucking dea¡ª

    Crunch

    My body is flung into the wall like a ragdoll. My breaths are ragged and strained. Pain surges through every nerve in my body. What was that crunching sound? I start to cough uncontrollably. I cover my mouth with my hands, looking down at them¡ªblood. My hands are covered in blood.

    I look back at the crocodile¡­ no¡­ crocodiles? There¡¯s one, two, three of them. I¡¯m pretty sure there was only one, so where did the others come from? I try to stand up, but my legs won¡¯t cooperate. Oh, one of them is coming towards me. What should I do?

    Crunch

    I scream out in agony as my torso is crushed between the crocodile¡¯s jaws. It then tosses me¡ªwhat¡¯s left of me¡ªto the others. I find myself surrounded by three crocodiles.

    ¡°Aarrggh!¡±

    <hr>

    Asrion¡¯s screams echo through the dungeon, desperate and haunting. But the dungeon remains indifferent, its only response the sickening crunch of bones, the wet rip of tearing flesh, and the relentless drip of blood pooling on the cold, unforgiving ground.

 Chapter 2.5: Aftermath (1)

    Oppressive dark clouds gather around the houses, hammering them with relentless rain. Trees and foliage thrash violently under the onslaught of tempestuous winds. The streets are eerily deserted, the storm being too violent for even the snails and slugs to reveal themselves.

    Despite the thick darkness, it''s still late afternoon, but the storm has driven everyone indoors prematurely. Normally quiet at this hour, the houses are now bustling with sound and life, a byproduct of everyone being holed up together. However in one particular house, the deathly silence still lingers. Although well-maintained, signs of neglect begin to show: the kitchen sink is overdue for its daily cleaning, beds lie unmade, and weeds are beginning to overrun the driveway. The emptiness of the house is almost palpable, the absence of its residents hanging heavily in the air. Where they might be in weather like this remains a mystery.

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    Amidst the unsettling stillness and deafening silence, a stray television flickers, mistakenly left on, its glow the only movement in the lifeless living room. The voice of a news anchor echoes through the empty space.

    ¡°¡­A teenage boy has been reported missing after failing to show up at school for two consecutive days. The boy was last heard from as he was returning home a few days ago. Police have already identified witnesses and potential suspects, who are scheduled for questioning. It has been sai¡ª¡±

    The TV abruptly shuts off, silenced by a booming clap of thunder that sends tremors through the empty house.

 Chapter 3: Village Between the Worlds

    ¡°Ooh! Ooh! Let me see! Let me see!¡±

    ¡°Restrain yourself, child.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m not a child!¡±

    ¡°They¡¯re right, you shouldn¡¯t- Hey! Stop peeking through the windows!¡±

    ¡°Calm yourself, stubborn creature!

    ¡°Ha ha ha! Ha ha ha! Ha h-¡°

    ¡°Silence!¡± shouts a scratchy, yet rich voice. The others are immediately brought to silence.

    ¡°What do you think you¡¯re doing!¡± The voice exclaims.

    ¡°Sorry! Hee hee.¡±

    ¡°My bad¡­¡±

    ¡°Apologies Elder.¡±

    The squabble was immediately brought to a close. The voice continued ¡°You all should know better than this, creating such a ruckus here!¡±

    The others fall into silence.

    ¡°If you understand, then I request you take your leave. If any of you are concerned. I will remain here myself.¡± The voice says, more softly this time.

    ¡°Yes¡± The other voices replied, in a discordant unison. With that, three figures dispersed. Leaving the ¡°Elder¡± waiting alone¡­

    <hr>

    The wind blows softly.

    In response to its whisper, my eyes crack open every so slightly. The effort strange and heavy. A single ray of light pierces through the crevasse of my eye, kickstarting my consciousness¡­

    I erupt off the floor, sitting up with a start, breathing manically, as if I were about to die¡­ die? Wasn¡¯t I just about to die? I attempt to calm myself, slowing my breaths and focusi-

    I can feel my breath pass through my lungs.

    My heart drops, feeling my panic resurge tenfold. I begin to choke on the crushing weight of my own breathing as my hands frantically pat down on my torso. Every muscle in my body tightens with an unbearable pressure. The struggle sends me crashing down to the floor. The floor? Wasn¡¯t I already on the floor? The shock of the impact causes me to momentarily freeze, until I begin coughing uncontrollably. Dazed, I lie down in perplexity, having no idea where I am.

    ¡°Young one, how do you do?¡±

    An oddly comforting voice I don¡¯t recognise approaches from behind me, sounding old yet defined. Despite taking me completely unexpected, I don¡¯t feel surprised. I sluggishly roll over. My eyes don¡¯t adjust to the light. I momentarily lie on my back in silence, until my voice finally finds its way up my throat.

    ¡°I-, I-¡° almost stuttering. ¡°I¡¯m fine¡­¡± replying meekly. The words don¡¯t feel like my own. I begin to gradually rise from the rugged floor. After finally managing to stand on my own two feet, I lift my head, finding myself staring into a man¡¯s face.

    His face was lined with deep wrinkles, each one carved by age. White hair framed his head, falling from his scalp and chin like snow. He was shorter than me, slouched slightly in his posture. His robes were long and white, draping over him like ceremonial cloth. But it was his eyes¡ªhalf-lidded yet glowing with a brilliance that made him seem so much younger. His ears, too, long and strangely pointed, twitched slightly. As I blankly stare into his face, he stares back, wearing an almost indescribable expression. Seemingly sympathetic, but also melancholic and pitiful. Why do you look at me in that way?

    ¡°My name is Werloth¡± the man says, bowing slightly, breaking the almost awkward silence. ¡°Son, what are you called?¡±

    His question takes me by surprise, I failed to realise I hadn¡¯t even introduced myself. ¡°Uh, eh-¡° I stammer, ¡°I¡¯m Asrion¡± I reply, scratching my head while averting eye-contact.

    The conversation comes to an abrupt stop, generating an uncomfortable silence. The old man must¡¯ve realised this too, as he turns his back and begins to walk away.

    ¡°If you seek to understand this place, accompany me.¡± he says.

    I promptly follow him, exiting through a door. As I depart, I look back to where I left from. A humble stone-brick hut. Adjacent on either side of the open door stand windows. From this angle not much of the interior is visible, but I manage to make out a simple bed, with a thin mattress and thinner pillows in the centre of the one-room dwelling. As I turned, something caught my eye. The stone¡­ It wasn¡¯t gray like I had first thought. No, the bricks were tinted blue.

    Blue¡­

    I freeze. My entire body seizes up. Images flash across my mind. Cold, jagged walls. Crushing darkness. My breath hitched. I try to move, but my feet are locked to the earth like invisible chains had shackled me where I stood.

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    The memories came faster, impossible to stop, tearing through my mind. The weapons. The beasts. The screams¡ªmy screams. Cold sweat drenched my face as panic crushed me like a vice. I couldn¡¯t move, couldn¡¯t breathe, trapped in the past. Nothing could save me from this pain. Nothing ca-

    ¡°Asrion.¡±

    A hand grips my shoulder, warm and steady. I blink, and the world snaps back into place. Werloth stands beside me, his presence grounding me, pulling me from the nightmare. My heart is still racing, but the grip of my intangible loosens. I¡¯m back, in this strange and confusing present.

    I shake off his arm. ¡°I¡¯m fine now, thank you¡­¡± I mumble, embarrassed and defeated. Without a word, Werloth resumes walking. I follow him, my head down, my feet heavy on the cobbled path. As I continue down the path, the weight of being watched clings to me like a wet cloak. Eyes. So many eyes on me. I can feel them, but I can¡¯t bring myself to look up. My eyes stay glued to the ground. The crunch of stones underfoot fills my ears. I walk like I¡¯m not there, my body moving on its own, separately from my consciousness.

    We come to a halt, arriving at our probable destination. My eyes remain downwards, but it seems we¡¯ve arrived at another building, this one being predominantly made out of wood. We enter through the door without knocking, one after the other.

    The taps of our footsteps echo throughout the building. It seems a lot bigger than the house I initially found myself in. We pass various pieces of furniture, tables and chairs, until Werloth once again comes to a stop.

    ¡°We have arrived, take a seat, I will return promptly¡± he orders. I take a seat on a nearby chair, facing a small square table. All the furniture here also seems to be made of wood. I sit blankly. After finally getting some time to myself, I feel emptier than ever before. The hollowness spreads throughout my body like a plague.

    Werloth seems to be talking to someone behind me. A short and quiet conversation. Footsteps approach, Werloth¡¯s presence brushing against me. A book drops onto the table in front of me. Its cover is dark red, worn and blank. ¡°This book here should answer most of your questions. If you seek any more answers, I will be remaining here at your convenience.¡± The old voice said. After I reply with a meek nod into space, Werloth takes his leave, leaving me with myself, or what¡¯s left of it, and this red book. I honestly don¡¯t care what¡¯s written in here, but if it will help alleviate this fog and confusion in my head, I might as well read it.

    I open the book, billowing dust into the air. I turn to the first page and begin to read.

    Introduction: The Trials and The Haven

    The Trials and The Haven exist in a dimension far removed from other territories of Gods. Individuals from various worlds are transported here after meeting certain criteria, mainly if certain character traits are expressed and/or present.

    Reading this causes my muscles to tense, there¡¯s something extremely unsettling about these words, they feel very familiar, like it was written by myself... I continue reading.

    The text in all books in The Library, including this one you¡¯re reading right now, are automatically generated when opening the book. The contents generated are dependent on what book is opened and also a scan of the reader¡¯s soul.

    Soul? I thought reading this would give me some answers, helping me to untie the jumbled mess of my mind. Instead, it''s only getting worse. Well, I might as well try to piece together what I can make out. The Haven must be where I am now, and The Trials¡­

    My body shudders at the thought, the reaction is not as severe as before.

    The Library¡­ where is that?

    Mustering all my remaining energy, courage, and strength, I raise my head, finally taking in my surroundings for the first time. A large cathedral-like building, composed mainly of wood. Intricate carvings run down the pillars and walls. Turning my head around, many other objects come into view. Orderly lines of bookshelves, filled to the brim run down the middle of the building. A clerk desk comes into view along with a person seated behind it, presumably the clerk, who is engrossed in a book that is covering my view of their face. All I can make out is their long, dark hair.

    Looking around even more, I spot Werloth sitting down patiently at a far-off seat. Candle holders are fitted in the walls, lit candles illuminate the room with a luminous yellow glow. Looking up reveals a magnificent dome, fitted with glass and holding a grand, intricate chandelier, further lighting up the room. Although the sky is probably visible, from my current angle, the chandelier blocks my view. The room''s warmth rekindles something within me, even if temporarily, I feel part of myself resurge. The fog in my mind partially clears up, and some of my cognitive ability returns.

    I stare blankly at the dome. Wait, would a ¡°pocket dimension¡± even have a sky? I realise I¡¯ve forgotten entirely about the book and continue to read from where I left off.

    Normally, the average mortal soul doesn¡¯t hold much information. However, upon being summoned here, the soul is forcibly expanded to include the following:

    - A link to the biological brain.

    - Space to store a clone of the biological brain(¡®s information).

    - Basic proficiency in all weapons and martial arts, via this neural link.

    Well, that makes a bit more sense. I was thinking how a scan of the soul could reveal something in my brain, those things would probably exist on completely different planes wouldn¡¯t they? It also explains the weird sense of familiarity I experienced when wielding that sword. My mind - no, my soul, was tampered with. I read on further.

    Additionally, due to the rules of this pocket dimension and also the influence of being close to the Omniverse, multiple phenomena occur. One being inconsistencies in the development of the body, however, you should age normally. Due to this, the only way to leave this pocket dimension is either by dying of old age or completing The Trials.

    After reading the last sentence, my heart drops like a stone. Not even the calm and relaxing atmosphere of The Library can stop me from falling into a state of panic. I can only leave by dying? No no no, there has to be another way. There must be another way. Completing the trials is impossible, no matter how you look at it. Even assuming I can beat those¡­. Beasts¡­ who knows what it¡¯ll throw at me next. It¡¯s only logical that it would just get more difficult.

    All the other details no longer matter to me, I frantically flip through the pages, my heart up to my throat. All in hope of another route, another way. However, nothing is found, and any remaining hopes are shattered before me.

    To re-enter The Trials after a failed run, go to th-

    I slam the book shut, pushing it away. My head drops into my arms as tears begin to stream out of my eyes endlessly.

 Chapter 4: Another Day of Peace and Torment

    Six months have passed since I¡¯ve arrived at this strange place. Well, that¡¯s only according to the clock in my hut, that somehow keeps track of time automatically. Not sure how that works. Well, if things like pocket-dimensions exist, a magic clock probably isn¡¯t too crazy.

    Anyways, I¡¯m getting a bit sidetracked. Over these months, I¡¯ve grown used to this village life. There are more people here than just Werloth and the Librarian. Everyone of us has a similar stone hut, and apparently, whenever a new arrival shows up, a hut just materialises out of nowhere. Weird stuff. Other than that, everyone¡¯s been really nice, but the cast of characters we¡¯ve got here is¡­ how do I put it? They¡¯re unique to say the least.

    I¡¯ve just woken up. Might as well get ready. With a yawn, My heavy eyelids are forced open and I lazily slip out of bed. The thin pillows and mattress aren¡¯t what I¡¯m used to, but they get the job done. I shuffle over to a small, old-fashioned wardrobe made of wood. Pulling out my only spare set of clothes¡ªa light grey t-shirt and some darker trousers¡ªI cautiously peek outside the door. Look left. Look right. Coast is clear. Let¡¯s go¡ª

    ¡°As-rion! As-rion!¡± Sings an energetic voice. I turn to see someone approaching.

    Although she may look and sound like a young girl, she¡¯s apparently over sixty years old yet she acts like she¡¯s six. Don¡¯t you think it¡¯s about time you begin to act your age?

    Out of all the people I could¡¯ve run into, why her? Sighing, I decide to go welcome her. Feigning ignorance and going back inside would simply result in her beating the shit out of my door. She¡¯s done it so many times, I¡¯m starting to worry that it may even come off its hinges.

    ¡°Hello Lyria¡± I reply, my voice lacking its usual bravado. I look down and stare into her eyes, filled with stars. It¡¯s like a galaxy has been trapped inside of each one. Her short, dark iridescent hair flows like the light striking it, almost flowing down to her shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m off to get myself some breakfast, so I will play with you later, alright?¡± I casually lie.

    ¡°But you said that yesterday too!¡± She pouts. I mean, I¡¯ve said it a lot more than just yesterday you know?

    Yeah, and the day before, and the one before that¡­ But crap¡ªshe¡¯s actually catching on. I did not see this coming at all. I squirm internally, racking my brain for an out, until my stomach lets out a loud growl.

    ¡°U-uh, you hear that?¡± I falter. ¡°I¡¯m starving! Oh, how hungry I am!¡± I say, making a show of it. Without waiting for a response, I break into a jog and make my escape.

    For a moment she stares at me, face deadpan, before shouting back ¡°Okay! Bye bye!¡± while enthusiastically waving her arms. Thank God she¡¯s so stupid.

    Deciding it¡¯s too much of a hassle to stop, I continue jogging along the road. The crunch of gravel underfoot greets the morning as I make my way downhill. while I pass by a sea of teal grass stretching towards the horizon. A gentle breeze caresses my face, creating ripples through the grass. Trees scattered across the endless plains wear a subtle blue tint, their leaves a soft teal. Even the rocks seem to have a bluish hue, and the flowers emit a vibrant azure light. The sheer amount of blue is still heavily disconcerting, but I¡¯ve managed to grow resistant to it over the months.

    Although I am hungry, food isn¡¯t my top priority. I like to wake up earlier than most, partly because of this little detour. Near the bottom of the hill, I veer off the path, making my way to a large rock, which I sit down on. This spot is peaceful and boasts a magnificent view of the village from below.

    Grass, stones and foliage flow upwards like liquid, winding roads cut through the landscape. As you ascend the hill, you reach an even plateau dotted with the stone huts that make up the village. At the summit stands an old-fashioned wooden library, radiant and bright, surrounded by a vivid yellow aura, as though it melts the icy blues around it. Light shoots up from its dome like a crown, reaching into the dark, artificial sky. There are no stars here, only tightly packed nebulae of bluish gradients fill the sky to the brim. Even the clearest Earth sky could never compare to the beauty of this endless void.

    Something furry brushes against me. Looking down, I see Doggo, the little mutt who¡¯s decided my lap is his bed. His light brown fur swaying gently in the breeze.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re here too?¡± I murmur.

    Doggo was brought to The Haven like the rest of us. Seems the Gods don¡¯t discriminate. You¡¯d think he¡¯d be some magical dog, but no, he¡¯s just your average fluffy canine, holding a bit of resemblance to a Shiba Inu from Earth. Perhaps it was a mishap?

    Well besides I should probably go get something to eat. I bet Doggo here, who I named myself, came here because it was hungry.

    ¡°Doggo, let¡¯s grab something to eat¡± I say.

    ¡°C¡¯mon, Doggo,¡± I say, ¡°let¡¯s go grab breakfast.¡±

    Doggo hops off my lap and lands on the ground. Language barriers are nonexistent here, as stated by a book from the Library. Doggo seems to understand me, though he can¡¯t talk back. Guess that¡¯s the limit of being a dog.

    We head back to the path, Doggo trotting beside me. A few minutes later, we round a bend, and my destination comes into view. However, someone is already there.

    A threateningly large and bulky figure constructed out of a silver alloy. Although it is relatively humanoid, it¡¯s head holds one glowing red eye. Crimson streaks flow across its body, all converging at its core located in the middle of its chest. A multitude of metallic arms protrude from its back. Each holding a unique tool. Energy blades, buzzsaws, guns and turrets. It¡¯s a living weapon. It towers over the field, precisely plucking vegetables out of the ground¡­

    As I approach the field, the robot turns its head in my direction, its laser red eye glaring at me.

    ¡°You are late once again.¡± Says a robotic voice, sounding slightly noisy.

    ¡°Nah¡± I reply, suppressing a grin. ¡°You¡¯re the one who¡¯s always early Titan.¡± My voice comes off quieter than anticipated.

    ¡°I have nothing else to do.¡± The voice admits monotonously.

    I still find it really funny whenever I see this mechanical monstrosity doing farm or domestic work. But those extra arms make the process a lot easier. When it comes to food, there really isn¡¯t much variety. Vegetables that don¡¯t exist on Earth grow here everyday. They all practically have no taste when eaten raw, but normally Werloth cooks something up for us. I help out sometimes too, as I had to cook meals for myself quite often. However, Werloth¡¯s food just tastes a lot better than what I make. I guess you get pretty good at things after living for so long. We don¡¯t need to eat to survive here, but we still get hungry, and having a decent meal is always nice.

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    ¡°Well, since you are here now¡± Titan begins. ¡°Assist me in collecting the remaining vegetables.¡±

    ¡°Sure¡± I reply.

    The day unfolds in its usual rhythm. I help Titan pick vegetables while Doggo sneakily munches on some of our haul. Once we¡¯re done, we haul our spoils back to the village, where Werloth makes a stew. I chop the vegetables as usual, and when it¡¯s ready, everyone eats their fill. The rest of the day I spend wandering the village, greeting whoever I come across and sometimes dodging Lyria¡¯s ambushes. I usually head to the Library to kill time. It doesn¡¯t have many novels and the like, but the Librarian has them all neatly arranged.

    The day passes, and eventually, dinner is served. I help out again, as usual. Afterward, we eat together before heading to bed. The sky darkens cyclically, and though it¡¯s not a 24-hour day, my hut¡¯s clock keeps track of familiar time units, so it doesn¡¯t matter to me. I shut the door behind me, as I do, a nearby candle is illuminated, its flickering glow casting long shadows across the room. I change back into the clothes I wore earlier, my hands unsteady as I pull the covers up and shakily tuck myself into bed. The days may be slow and uneventful, but they¡¯re peaceful, and honestly, that¡¯s not so bad. I tell myself I¡¯ll get a good night¡¯s sleep¡ªyes, a restful, dreamless sleep. I pull the blanket tighter around me and snuff out the candle. Darkness swallows the room, leaving me staring at the ceiling. My eyes refuse to close at first, as if waiting for something. Eventually, I feel myself beginning to drift, but the nagging unease lingers in the quiet, just at the edges of my thought.

    ¡­

    A vivid dream begins to take form in the depths of my mind, just as usual. Like every dream, it begins in an azure stone tunnel¡­ wait, that¡¯s not it? I find myself in a familiar room, a room I¡¯ve spent countless hours in, through both good times and bad. It¡¯s my room, not this tiny stone hut, but my own room, back home. Why am I even dreaming this? Am I really that homesick? Looking down, two fuzzy hands come into view. A lucid dream huh, haven¡¯t had one of these in a while. I bite down on my tongue hard but feel nothing, yep ¨C that confirms it.

    Although the room is unmistakably mine, it feels different. It¡¯s much plainer. There¡¯s a single bed in the far-right corner, opposite a small white wardrobe. The white walls are rough, but they¡¯re mostly blank and clean. A simple white desk sits in the far-left corner, holding textbooks, stationery, and a modest computer setup, including some basic accessories.

    Heavy footsteps approach from behind me, I turn around to see a boy, frustrated and enraged. However, this anger does not seem to be targeted at me and instead he takes it out on the bed. The boy doesn¡¯t even acknowledge me, It seems that I¡¯m simply an observer. I don¡¯t find curiosity well up inside of me like normal, I mean, I know perfectly well why this boy is angry. Of course I do, how could I not? The boy is me.

    He looks different from the person I am now. Notably smaller, with less bulk and muscle, and slightly shorter. Light bags hang beneath his eyes, and his short black hair is unkempt. His medium-toned skin appears rough. From these details, I¡¯d say this took place about two years ago. So much has changed since then, I¡¯m getting kind of nostalgic you know? Actually, nope, scratch that. On second thought, I remember way too well how I felt back then. If I had to describe it in one word, I would use ¡°shit¡±. The boy screams and pounds his fists into his pillows and mattress, unleashing a torrent of pent-up emotions. No one answers his cries. His parents are away, as usual. Oh yes, it¡¯s all coming back to me now. This was a pivotal moment for me, the moment I decided I had to change my stagnant life. I just can¡¯t recall what, or who, pushed me into that sorry state.

    I continue watching myself unravel. It¡¯s a lucid dream, so I could take control whenever I choose, but I¡¯m curious to see how things unfold without my interference. After some time, the room gradually shifts through the passage of time. As the days, weeks, and months roll by, the room changes with it. Papers scribbled with notes begin to line the once blank walls. The study area grows, and the computer setup expands. The room becomes tidier, and a pull-up bar appears in the doorway. However, the most striking changes appear in the boy himself. His body grows larger, his muscles more defined. His complexion improves, gaining a subtle tan. Yet, despite these improvements, his eyelids begin to droop, heavy as if weighed down by sandbags. Coffee mugs now litter the desk as he slaves away, night after sleepless night. Yet, the light in his eyes never dim ¨C no, it grows brighter with each passing day.

    It was indeed a hell of a journey. Sleepless nights became routine. Networks were built, friendships formed, enemies made. Amongst all the highs and lows, the greatest feeling came from reaching the finish line¡ªaccomplishing my dreams and rising to the top. As I watch, the achievements of my past self fill me with a contagious sense of pride. It¡¯s almost as though I¡¯m reliving those moments once again. I worked so hard, I almost want to pat myself on the back. I chuckle to myself.

    But these emotions are fleeting. The scene suddenly shifts to something far more recent¡ªand far more grotesque. The once-expanding room is now a cold, lifeless chamber, awash in shades of blue. All that remains of the boy is a solitary, disembodied hand lying in a pool of blood. The flesh has begun to decay, giving way to shattered fragments of bone.

    This is the reward for the boy¡¯s efforts¡ªno, for my efforts. Not fame. Not glory. Not even happiness. Just a lonely death. My fate sealed; I¡¯m sentenced to eternal isolation. I¡¯m pathetic. There¡¯s nothing I can do. It¡¯s as though I¡¯ve regressed, stuck in the same situation as before¡­

    Wait¡ªbefore? Realisation strikes me like a blow, a revelation that should have hit me months ago. I begin to laugh hysterically, clutching my head in my hands.

    ¡°Since when did I become so pathetic?¡±

    If my situation really is no different than before, then why am I sitting here, doing nothing like some fucking duckling? Back then, I hated my life¡ªso I changed it with my own strength. My fate wasn¡¯t sealed the moment I arrived in this mystical place. No it indeed wasn¡¯t. Instead, it was sealed the moment I gave up. This place isn¡¯t so bad? What kind of bullshit is that? I hate it here! I worked so hard because I wanted to enjoy my life! Not so I could sit around until I rot to death!

    So what if the stakes are higher? So what if it seems insurmountable? Back then, I felt the same way. I was a walking piece of shit for so long that it felt normal, it felt like change felt impossible¡ªbut I proved myself wrong. If I did it once, I can surely do it again.

    Just as I muster this newfound resolve, a menacing growl rumbles from behind me. I turn to face a familiar, dark beast, its teeth bared. The gaze of its three eyes pierce through my soul. Even in a dream, fear floods my body, freezing me in place. Oh yeah, this is why I felt so helpless¡ªwhat can I possibly do against it?

    But for the first time in all these recurring nightmares, I shake off the fear and take a step forward. This monster, this fear¡ªit¡¯s the unscalable wall that stands between me and change. It¡¯s the wall so many struggle to overcome. Yet, I¡¯ve conquered it before, and I can¡ªno, I will do it again. Once you reach the top, it¡¯s all downhill from there. And once the ball starts rolling, nothing can stop it.

    I raise my palm toward the crocodile, as though commanding it to stop. In an instant, stone spikes burst from the ground, skewering the beast into a heap of blackened flesh. It lies as lifeless as my own remains. Immediately afterwards, the ground shatters before me, numerous explosions burst around me, kicking up a cloud of dust so thick it forms an impenetrable fog. More black crocodiles claw their way into the chamber, surrounding me. How many are there? No matter¡ªthey¡¯ll all meet the same fate. I stomp the ground, sending violent tremors across the chamber. One by one, each of the beasts is impaled, their bodies collapsing into lifeless heaps. Blackened corpses now litter the ground.

    I smirk as the world around me fades away and I wake up.

    As I hastily get up, my eyes dart to the clock. Rays of light flow through the windows of the hut. Huh, for the first time since coming here, I¡¯ve finally managed to sleep through a full night. A massive grin subconsciously spreads across my face.

    Well now, it¡¯s time to get started.

 Chapter 5: Failure to Plan is Planning to Fail

    Uncharacteristically, I find myself spending my morning in the Library. I had already informed Titan that I wouldn¡¯t be able to help today. He didn¡¯t press for any further details, merely giving me a monotone ¡°OK¡± before stomping away, leaving crushed rocks in his wake. How does he even move with a body that heavy? Things from other worlds really are no joke.

    It seems that I¡¯m getting lost in thought again. Well, I can¡¯t blame myself; scouring the Library for a big enough book does get quite boring.

    I continue rummaging through bookshelves. ¡°Hey, Librarian, you got anything bigger than this?¡± I shout over my shoulder, waving a rather large book in the air.

    ¡°How many times do I have to tell you? I don¡¯t know! Stop pestering me!¡± She yells back from behind the clerk¡¯s desk, clearly agitated. ¡°And stop calling me ¡®Librarian¡¯!¡± She hastily adds, before returning to her book.

    What a bad temper that Librarian has. I¡¯m sorry, but no one is remembering that long-ass name you have. Besides, you¡¯re so easy to wind up, I can¡¯t help but continue. Your reactions are way too good.

    ¡°Sorry, what should I call you then? Nerd? Bookworm? Loner?¡±

    Oof, it seems like the facts were too much for her. That face of hers turned red real fast. Did I go too far?

    ¡°Anyways!¡± She coughs while adjusting her glasses, ¡°Why do you even need a big book?¡±

    ¡°Why else? For paper of course.¡± To demonstrate my point, I tear a page from the book, its soul-scribed text dissipating as it¡¯s removed. The pages regenerate so it should be fine-

    Gasp

    I turn at the sound. Hmm? What do we have here?

    ¡°What¡¯s with that expression Miss Librarian? You look like you¡¯ve just watched your family get murdered¡­¡± Trailing off, a devious grin spreads across my face. ¡°Oh wait, you spend more time with books than people, so technically they are your- ¡°

    ¡°Just shut up!¡± She erupts, her face practically burning with rage. ¡°You¡¯re just here to annoy me again, aren¡¯t you? If so, just leave!¡± She yells, throwing furious gestures. ¡°And also, call me by my name! Say it with me! Se-ra-pho-ri-an-ve-li-a!¡±

    ¡°The-ra-nope, way too long.¡± My hands instinctively fly to my ears, protecting me from the torrent of obscenities that followed.

    After a while, she finally calms down. ¡°If you need paper that big, couldn¡¯t you just get some from Aerilith?¡±

    Oh yeah, Aerilith. The Librarian¡¯s is almost on par with her¡¯s. She never appears for meals. Instead. We leave food at her doorstep, which she always finishes. She even leaves a small thank-you note each time. How sweet. Now, let¡¯s compare that to the profanity pissing Librarian we have over here. Hmm, yeah, not a great look.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to be honest, I almost forgot she existed.¡±

    ¡°Heh, you did?¡± the Librarian smirks. ¡°Are you so stupid that you can¡¯t even remember seven other people?¡±

    What, you think you still have any chance at redeeming yourself? A half-baked comeback like that will never beat me! ¡°She¡¯s always holed up inside that hut of hers, I rarely see her. Also, I don¡¯t hear from her regularly either since I¡¯m not part of the loner squad, so¡­ ¡°

    ¡°Get out!¡±

    Welp, looks like the fun¡¯s over. There isn¡¯t much left for me to do here anyways, getting that paper is my top priority. The sooner I can get started, the better. Guess it¡¯s time to go pay Aerilith a surprise visit.

    After tucking in my seat and reorganising the bookshelves, I weave my way between chairs and tables as head off towards the door, which has already begun to open¡­

    A quick dive sends me under a nearby table. Shit! That was a close one. It almost slipped my mind that this could happen.

    Sneaking a peek reveals an unassuming Lyria trotting in through the door. ¡°Asrion! Asrion¡­ Asrion?¡± She says to herself.

    Lyria never has anything to do, so of course when she gets bored, she¡¯d come to ¡®play¡¯ with the youngest of the bunch ¨C that is me. The Library is the last place an idiot like her would go to, I bet you she¡¯s already looked everywhere else.

    Blankly, she scans the grandeur of the Library like a searchlight. I tuck myself deeper under the table, praying that she doesn¡¯t find me. Some moments later, her search ends abruptly as her eyes finally lock onto something.

    ¡°Loner girl!¡±

    Thankfully, it¡¯s not me.

    ¡°Loner girl-Loner girl-Loner girl!¡±

    Lyria begins her assault on the poor Librarian, hopping around her while shouting incoherently. Tugging on her black hair and clothes. This stupid girl, who doesn¡¯t possess even a single shred of empathy, probably thinks nothing of the now trembling Librarian, who appears to be on the verge of tears.

    Well, the perfect opportunity has presented itself. It would be rather rude of me not to take advantage of it. I tiptoe my way over to the door before dashing out, ignoring the desperate cries echoing from behind me.

    ¡­

    After knocking for the tenth time, my patience wears thin. Ok, fine, one more time. This¡¯ll be it, just watch.

    I take a deep breath¡­

    And barrage the door with a series of blows. ¡°I know you¡¯re in there!¡± I scream. ¡°So just open the damn door!¡±

    Still no response huh? Well, unfortunately, that leaves me with no choice but to return later. What? You thought I was gonna be all like, ¡®never give up!¡¯? I¡¯m not stupid, it¡¯s not like waiting here would change any-

    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

    ¡°Coming¡­¡±

    A soothing voice catches me off guard, monotone yet musical, its softness washes away my pent-up frustration.

    The door unlocks and I¡¯m welcomed by a woman, slightly taller than me. Her skin bears an otherworldly shade pale, making her appear almost lifeless, if not for the faint flush of her cheeks. Long, dishevelled golden hair cascades around her shoulders, while her pristine silver dress flows gently in the breeze.

    ¡°Oh my¡­¡± the woozy voice says. ¡°Look who it is, it¡¯s¡­¡± her diamond eyes stare into space, half-shut.

    ¡°I believe the word you¡¯re looking for is ¡®Asrion¡¯.¡± A bit shocked by her appearance, my voice defaults to formal.

    ¡°Ah, yes, the new one¡­¡± she yawns.

    The conversation has already come to a standstill, replaced with an awkward silence. We stand facing each other from either side of the door. Hmm, what to say, what to say?

    ¡°May I come inside? I need to discuss something.¡±

    ¡°Ahh¡­ let me ask for permission¡­¡± She starts to retreat back into the hut.

    Wait, get permission from who though?

    ¡°No, that won¡¯t be necessary.¡± I quickly interject. I¡¯ve always heard that she was a bit, well, ¡®out of it¡¯, but seeing her up close proves that to be a heavy understatement. ¡°I¡¯m just here to get some paper.¡±

    ¡°Well then¡­ come inside... ¡°

    I follow Aerilith into the hut, stepping over small puddles of paint, tipped over buckets, brushes, and other unfamiliar analogue art equipment. The room is a chaotic mess of colours, filled with the stench of paint, both fresh and dry. The only items spared are a bed and an upright easel, displaying a half-finished painting. To put it bluntly, the atmosphere feels woozy, much like Aerilith herself. The sensation is akin to a fever dream. Despite the disordr, her unblemished, almost ethereal appearance sharply contrasts with the mess surrounding her.

    We reach the corner of the hut, where a stack of large papers, around A3 size, lies. Aerilith crouches down and grabs a sheet, offering it to me.

    ¡°Here you go¡­¡±

    Uhm¡­

    ¡°May I have one that¡¯s preferably blank?¡±

    ¡°Oh¡­¡± Her voice sounds emotionless, but slightly disappointed. She looks down at the paper, smudged with paint. She sluggishly places it back onto the pile before digging out another one.

    ¡°Here¡­¡±

    ¡°I believe that one is more red than white.¡±

    We repeat this same exchange countless times until eventually I have some plain paper in my hands. Finally¡­ any longer and I think I¡¯d have gone woozy myself. Well, no need to worry, my job here is done. Now I just need to find something to write with¡­

    As if on cue, I spot a small pencil hiding in the corner of my vision.

    ¡°May I take a pencil too?¡±

    ¡°Sure¡­¡±

    Whew, some good luck at last. My original plan was to experiment with different rocks and see which one would make the best marks, but if I can get a proper pencil, that¡¯ll save me both time and effort. Despite the room¡¯s odd vibe, it really does have some useful stuff.

    ¡°Why do you have so many things?¡±

    I mean, my room is super bare. All I¡¯ve got are the necessities, like a bed and clock. This sloth of woman here has all that plus every piece of art equipment you could ever need. If you weren¡¯t working digitally that is.

    ¡°Hmm¡­¡± Aerilith stares blankly at the ceiling, mouth agape. ¡°Sera said that the room comes with things you can¡¯t live without¡­¡±

    Wait, can¡¯t live without? That either means that art is so deeply engrained within her that it¡¯s practically a part of her being, or it¡¯s a consequence of my minimalist mindset. I mean, I¡¯ve always been low on spending money, so you can¡¯t really blame me for being a bit of a penny-pincher, right? Even when I started earning my own money, I still couldn¡¯t shake off my frugal habits.

    After exiting the hut, I wave with my free hand.

    ¡°Well then, I guess I¡¯ll get going then. Thanks a lot!¡±

    ¡°Bye¡­¡± Aerilith whispers as she mirrors my wave, albeit more slowly.

    Well, that was a successful trip, don¡¯t you think? I¡¯ve got everything I need, so now it¡¯s time to head back home, get my head down, and start strategising. If I want any chance at beating those beasts, a full-proof strategy will be essential. Gathering my thoughts onto paper will allow for higher productivity and efficiency, and I won¡¯t run the risk of forgetting anything important. After that, I can then get to starti-

    With a bump, I¡¯m thrown to the ground, papers and pencils scatter onto the cobbled road. Ugh, I¡¯ve dropped everything, gotta pick them up quickly. Before my hand can grab a nearby pencil, another hand gets there first.

    ¡°Apologies, young one.¡± Werloth says, offering his other hand towards me.

    ¡°No-no-no, it was my fault for not paying attention.¡± My voice meek with embarrassment, as I take him up on his offer.

    Werloth continues to help me retrieve my scattered supplies from the road and surrounding teal grass.

    Finally, I¡¯ve gotten everything back. Just as I¡¯m about to leave, Werloth shoots me an unexpected question.

    ¡°Young one, if I may ask, why do you require these?¡±

    ¡°Uh, erm¡­¡± I stammer. ¡°I j-just, I just wanted to try something new, you know? Was getting a bit bored? Heh-heh.¡± I begin to shy away. ¡°Well then, I guess I¡¯ll see you later!¡± Feeling like his eyes are piercing right through me, I uncomfortably rush off, continuing down the road.

    Shit, why did he have to ask that? The Trials are a bit of a sensitive topic here you know. Wouldn¡¯t it be bad if I were to just casually mention ¡®Oh, I was thinking of going back to The Trials. Yeah, the reason we¡¯re all trapped here for eternity.¡¯ Yeah, no, I can¡¯t see that ending well.

    I glance back, watching as Werloth¡¯s figure shrinks into the distance. I really hope he bought that lacklustre act of mine, if not, who knows what could happen?

    Well, there¡¯s no point in worrying about that. For now, let¡¯s just focus on the task at hand¡­

    ¡­

    Sitting down on the familiar wooden floor of my hut, I twirl a pencil between my fingers while looking down at the paper spread out in front of me.

    Hmm, where to begin? I might as well start with some sort of brainstorm. Annotating a picture of the crocodile may be a good idea, I don¡¯t perfectly remember how it looked like but that dream from yesterday is still fresh in my mind. Getting the main features down should be easy enough.

    I draw a quick sketch of the crocodile. After doing so much digital art, I¡¯ve gotten pretty damn good at drawing, so my final result is quite accurate.

    Let¡¯s see what we have here ¨C its got those massive teeth. I don¡¯t remember it biting me; it just kept attempting to ram me. Still, it¡¯s always a possibility, so I¡¯ll note that down. Those spikes running down its spine prevent me from climbing onto its back, and also makes it more difficult to jump over that tail swing. Those claws also look like they could be a problem¡­

    After going through this though process for a while, the sketch is now surrounded by annotations. I still have no idea what the purpose of that third eye is, maybe it¡¯s just for aesthetics? It also feels like something is missing, I do remember landing some hits in, but the memory is fuzzy. Somehow, I can recall the fact that there were multiple of them ¨C three to be precise. However, I can¡¯t remember what happened before that. Was there some sort of trigger? Well, sitting here won¡¯t help me remember it, the best solution would be to just keep it in the back of my mind throughout the course of the fight and react accordingly.

    From what I¡¯ve read and heard from the others, The Trials are always the same. You will always face same challenges in the same order, so there shouldn¡¯t be any reason for me to be greeted by all three of them at once. I¡¯m not even sure if those were all of them.

    No point in wasting time pondering on that now, I¡¯ve got the information in front of me so now it¡¯s time to come up with a strategy. Jumping over the tail seemed to work before, but because of it I was caught off guard. Is there some other way? Maybe sticking my sword out as it¡¯s charging at me? No, the impact would blow me away. Wait, what if I also used my shield? I may take some damage, but if I can pierce one of its eyes that, would put me in an extremely advantageous position. Still, there¡¯s gotta be a more reliable way¡­

    My eyes flick to the clock. Almost dinner time already, huh? Getting everything together took longer than I expected. Oh well, I skipped out on breakfast so I¡¯m starving. There¡¯s not much I can really do right now anyway. I should relax and prepare myself for tomorrow.

    There¡¯s still a lot of work to be done.

 Chapter 6: Everyone Had to Start Somewhere

    ¡°Huff¡­ huff¡­.¡±

    Letting out ragged breaths, I collapse to the floor, my training sword still grasped tightly in my hand. From the ground, I glare at the wooden dummy in front of me, still in perfect condition.

    You know those damage test dummies in games? Made of wood or straw, but seemingly indestructible? When playing a game, it¡¯s the kind of thing you overlook, but when facing one in real life, you come to realise how absolutely absurd the idea is.

    Where am I even? Well, if you keep following the path towards the bottom of the village hill, going further than the field, you¡¯ll eventually find yourself a mini training ground. It¡¯s got some dummies and practice swords, but that¡¯s about it.

    I probably would¡¯ve come here earlier out of extreme boredom if it wasn¡¯t for that thing¡­

    I glance ahead of me. The path keeps running down before shortly reaching its end, which also turns out to be the world¡¯s end.

    From there, a seemingly endless cliff stretches past the horizon, acting as a sort of boundary for this realm. Embedded into this cliff is a large, blue glowing gate¡­

    The sight of it still sends shivers down my spine, but now my condition¡¯s not bad enough to prevent me from training.

    It¡¯s obvious that if I want to have a better chance at victory, I¡¯ll obviously have to get better at combat. Even if I was bestowed with some degree of skill, it¡¯s still subpar at best, definitely not enough to soundly beat one of them, let alone three.

    What am I practicing you may ask? That¡¯s indeed a great question that I would love to have answered too. I mean, I know jackshit about swordsmanship, having nothing but this alien muscle memory.

    But that in itself is a good starting point. If my swings feel off, I¡¯m doing something wrong, If it feels natural then I¡¯m working in the right direction. It¡¯s the same sort of intangible feeling you get once you do something enough, I bet you¡¯ve probably felt it before.

    I even tried to look for some books on swordsmanship, but over 90% of the library is full of crap no one needs. Why would anyone ever need to read Fundamentals of Parallel Universes, or A Guide to Managing Soul Pools? What even are those?

    Anyways, that¡¯s enough rest for me. Time for another round of ¡®whack the dummy¡¯.

    Pushing myself off the ground, I fall into a stance. However, just as I raise my sword over my head, a lax voice catches me by surprise.

    ¡°No, no, no. Please, just stop. I might actually end up killing myself if I watch any longer¡±

    A man covered head to toe in purple scales sits coolly on the fence. Small wings stick out of his back as his glowing white eyes show a hint of exasperation.

    A draconean, at least according to him. The shape of his body parts more closely resembles that of a human than a dragon. In fact, if you were to take away those scales and wings, and a few other things, he¡¯d probably look exactly like one.

    ¡°Uhhh¡­ Shivror? How long have you even been there? You know that¡¯s kind of creepy right?¡± I ask in confusion.

    ¡°Long enough for those skills of yours to start pissing me off.¡± Shivror replies.

    ¡°Then go piss off! I don¡¯t remember asking you to be here!¡±

    ¡°Hmmm¡­ on a second thought, I¡¯ve got nothing else to do. So don¡¯t mind me and continue¡­ dancing about, or whatever you¡¯re meant to be doing.¡±

    With a sigh, I resume my practice. Thankfully, it¡¯s easy enough to ignore Shivror. He isn¡¯t overly annoying, nor large, nor loud. In fact, he¡¯s surprisingly normal, though in this place, that is quite strange in itself.

    Though because of that, his gaze still mildly unsettles me. I mean, having a silent observer just doesn¡¯t feel the same as doing something alone. It¡¯s like I¡¯m constantly being judged!

    His eyes are narrowed, seemingly lost in thought. He doesn¡¯t even acknowledge that I¡¯m sneaking some glances at him.

    Well, there¡¯s no reason to worry about him, this practice is all that matters right now, so I should start to focus.

    I continue attacking the dummy, only just noticing the peaceful atmosphere. Complete silence, only broken by occasional gusts of wind and the repeated strikes of my sword. Never could I have imagined that I¡¯d find myself so far removed from the busy life I¡¯d grown used to. However, this calmness I feel is overshadowed by a constant restlessness. The feeling that I shouldn¡¯t be here. The feeling that time is slipping between my fingers. The feeling that I¡¯m meant for more than this.The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

    This tranquillity, that some people would kill to attain, continues to gnaw at me. This absence of any sort of pressure is almost like a void. A stress-free life is hardly a life at all. Maybe that¡¯s why I¡¯m here, desperately trying to find a way out. I¡¯m not sure about the others, but I find this sort of life completely unbearable.

    Heh, who could¡¯ve imagined that I¡¯d fondly look back on the days I spent crunching away? Though that may just be me being the weirdo I am.

    Shivror finally gets off the fence, grabbing a sword from the rack.

    ¡°Hey newbie, stop playing about and come spar with me.¡±

    ¡°Gah! Just let me practice in peac-! Wait, spar?¡±

    I thought this guy just wanted to mess with me, but he¡¯s actually going to help? Well, there¡¯s no reason to refuse, it¡¯ll probably help me more than what I¡¯m doing, fighting against an actual opponent and all.

    ¡°Sure.¡± I agree.

    We head over to an open sparring ground, adjacent to the area with the dummies.

    Facing each other from either end, Shivror raises his sword at me, grinning.

    ¡°Well then, come at me, newbie.¡±

    Now that¡¯s the second time he¡¯s called me that. Does he think he¡¯s cool? Trying to flex his superiority. Wait, how good is he even? I probably should¡¯ve gotten that clarified beforehand.

    ¡°It would be pretty damn funny if your ass gets beaten after all that talk.¡± I taunt.

    ¡°You couldn¡¯t even dream of it.¡± He replies. ¡°Now stop wasting time and come! Fight!¡±

    I was feeling pretty confident, but at the word ¡®fight¡¯, my body freezes.

    How exactly does one fight?

    How could I, with practically no experience in combat, initiate a battle? What do I even do? Charge at him? I¡¯ve watched enough TV to know how that will turn out. That would make this bout ego-feeding exercise for him. Do I approach slowly? But what would even be the point of that?

    Every possible action seems like a fatal error. Wasn¡¯t there a saying that went like ¡®Don¡¯t interrupt your opponent when they¡¯re making a mistake¡¯? This whole situation is basically a trap! Should I just do nothing?

    Shivror stares at me, clearly annoyed as I squirm about, struggling to solve this rather simple dilemma.

    ¡°Ugh.¡± he says, breaking the silence. ¡°Here I thought I¡¯d teach you a quick beginner¡¯s lesson, but you¡¯re slightly smarter than I assumed.¡±

    ¡°What? You thought I¡¯d just hand my ass to you on a silver platter?¡±

    ¡°To be frank, after that pathetic performance before, yes.¡±

    Am I really that bad at swinging a sword? I mean, it isn¡¯t surprising since I just started today.

    ¡°How low was your opinion of me?¡± I ask. ¡°I¡¯m not some stupid kid you know?¡±

    ¡°Kid? You¡¯re more like an infant. Aren¡¯t you about seventeen now?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault this place if full of old hags.¡± I chuckle. Time is relative you know.

    ¡°Hah-hah!¡± Shivror laughs before taking an angrier tone. ¡±Let¡¯s see you laugh after I give you the ass-beating your parents never gave you, kid!¡± He shouts as he begins to rapidly close in.

    Shit! Now Shivror¡¯s the one on the offensive. I should¡¯ve just struck first; this is way too scary!

    In a panic, I instinctively raise my sword, catching his attack with a blunt Thud. The impact sends tremors through my body.

    But it doesn¡¯t stop there. His offensive never lets up, driving me back with blow after blow, leaving no opportunity for a counter in the midst of my frantic defence.

    Even if a gap were to present itself, I don¡¯t possess either the skill or the confidence to take advantage of it.

    Each strike comes down heavier than the last, my breath coming in short gasps. It¡¯s a miracle my trembling arms can still find the strength to keep hold of my sword.

    By the time I register his feint, he thrusts his sword into my chest. Courtesy of my horrendous balance, I¡¯m sent crashing to the ground.

    Embarrassingly, my initial indecision lasted longer than the actual fight.

    Breathing manically, I glance at Shivror, who hasn¡¯t even broken a sweat. In fact, he looks bored and even more displeased than before.

    ¡°I knew being the one on the offensive wouldn¡¯t be as satisfying¡­¡± he murmurs.

    He walks over and stares down at me, wearing quite the puzzled expression.

    ¡°Why are you grinning like an idiot? You lost you know?¡±

    What¡¯s not to be happy about? Sure, I lost, but if there¡¯s someone so skilled in such a close vicinity to me, my most pressing issue has been solved.

    It may have also hurt like hell, but that¡¯s no issue, since here in The Haven, it¡¯s somehow impossible to sustain injuries. That doesn¡¯t make it hurt any less though.

    ¡°Hey Shivror, didn¡¯t you say you were bored?¡± I ask, getting back on my feet.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like where this is going...¡±

    ¡°Your suuuper bored, right?¡±

    ¡°Uhh, yeah? Who isn¡¯t?¡± He replies, meekly scratching the back of his head, as if embarrassed to admit it.

    ¡°Then you don¡¯t mind teaching me how to use a sword, right?¡±

    ¡°What?¡±

    Why so surprised? What else could I have possibly requested?

    ¡°You¡¯ll do it, right?¡± I pester.

    ¡°Uhm¡­¡±

    ¡°Right?¡±

    ¡°Ugh, fine, but you¡¯ve to do what I say, ok?¡±

    ¡°As long as I¡¯m in this training area, I probably will.¡±

    ¡°Probably? Only probably?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, it would be pretty greedy to expect any more from me, wouldn¡¯t it?¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re the one who¡¯s being- ugh.¡± Shivror rubs his temples in exasperation. ¡°Anyways, that¡¯s not the attitude of someone who wants to learn. You¡¯ve got to show me more respect you know? If you¡¯re going to be like that, I can just leave¡­¡±

    ¡°Sure then, bye-bye!¡± I say as I wave mockingly. ¡°Leave. Have fun dying of boredom.¡±

    I¡¯ve gotten him cornered now; don¡¯t see any way he can talk himself out of this one.

    Shivror lets out a massive sigh. ¡°Fine then¡± he mutters reluctantly, shaking his head like he¡¯s made the worst decision in his life. ¡°When do we start?¡±

    ¡°Tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Alright...¡± He yawns. ¡°I''m way too tired for any more of this shit. I just want to sleep.¡±

    Dejected, Shivror retreats back to the village, his wings drooping in defeat. He may have won the battle, but it seems like I¡¯m the one who¡¯s won the war.

    Contrary to him, I¡¯m almost shaking in joy. The feeling of having yet another productive day never gets old. It''s yet another win for me.

    However, the very thought of my end goal still gives me goosebumps. Is it really possible for me to beat them?

    Gazing at the glowing gate ahead of me, my grip tightens in resolve. With a deep breath, I raise my sword once more.

 Chapter 7: Confronting the Reality of it

    A couple of weeks in, and my training is going a lot better than I initially expected it to go. I mean, just because you¡¯re skilled at something doesn¡¯t mean you¡¯re any good at teaching it. I can¡¯t even begin to count the number of times I¡¯ve tried to explain a concept to someone just for them to look at me like what the fuck is going on.

    Anyways, what I¡¯m trying to get across is that I thought Shivror was going to be suck ass at teaching, but in reality, his explanations are clear and make sense. He also points out my mistakes and tells me when and why I¡¯m wrong. His teaching style clearly shows that this isn¡¯t his first time. With how everything¡¯s progressing, we almost have the perfect teacher-student relationship.

    Yes, almost. Knowing me, did you really think things would go smoothly?

    ¡°For the tenth time, your balance is still off!¡±

    ¡°And for the duodecillionth time, I¡¯m still 50-50! how is that off?!¡±

    ¡°But you¡¯re not! Your stance keeps slipping a foot too wide! Also, stop making up numbers!¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s a real number you dumbass! I¡¯ve got that many cookies in Cookie C¡ª¡ª-r!¡±

    ¡°What even is tha-, ugh!¡± Shivror rubs his head in agitation, clearly regretting all the choices that have led up to this point. It takes some moments before he begins to regain his composure.

    ¡°Well.¡± He coughs ¡°In spite of your inability to keep your stance in control, you¡¯ve improved quite a significant bit over these past couple of weeks. You honestly make those draconean kids look like idiots, which they are.¡±

    ¡°Thanks.¡± Suppressing a grin, I wipe the sweat from my brow.

    It¡¯s already evident that I¡¯ve gotten much more comfortable wielding a sword. My strikes are smoother, their indecisive shakiness heavily reduced.

    Of course, that doesn¡¯t change the fact that I still get continually battered during our regular spars, but the length of our bouts has increased from just a few seconds to around ten. A major achievement if I do say so myself.

    However, because my development can only be measured by comparing myself to Shivror, I have no clue how I would fare in my battle against those beasts. Even if I were to keep at it with this training routine, this feeling of uncertainty isn¡¯t going to budge.

    ¡°Alright, you can take a break now¡± Shivror declares.

    I drop to the floor and gaze upwards, gasping as I lay my wooden sword aside. The majestic sky, filled with its azure nebulae is almost unchanging. I guess that extends to me as well. It¡¯s been almost a month, yet I¡¯m still here, sprawled out on this same training ground. However:

    ¡°I¡¯m still not ready.¡± I mutter under my breath.

    ¡°Ready? Ready for what?¡±

    Shivror¡¯s unexpected reply causes me to jolt back up. How good is his hearing to be able to hear that quiet of a whisper?

    ¡°Uhm- uhm¡­¡± I fumble my words. ¡°It¡¯s nothing!¡±

    ¡°You sure? Because it doesn¡¯t seem like it. Hmm... and if you really think about it, there¡¯s only one thing you could be getting ready for in this place¡­¡±

    With a surprise burst of intelligence, for once it seems that Shivror is the one to corner me. Because of the fear of getting found out, I can¡¯t even control the nervous jitters of my arms. Damn it! If I¡¯d spent less time in front of my computer, maybe I¡¯d have better acting skills!

    ¡°Wh-what?¡± I avert my eyes, not even trying to conceal my quivering voice.

    Crap, I¡¯ve done it now. There¡¯s no way out of this one. Just as I brace myself for my impending doom, Shivror bursts into raucous laughter.

    ¡°Ha-ha! To think it¡¯d only take a few words to make you fold! Ha-eugh!¡± Shivror chokes on his laughter. ¡°What did you think would happen? That I¡¯d get mad at you for trying to reattempt the Trials? You look like a kid who¡¯s about to get scolded by their parents!¡±

    Shivror¡¯s light-hearted response erodes my worries away. However, my anxiety is replaced by a realisation of what just unfolded.

    And followed by that: embarrassment and anger. My face heats up with a newfound fury.

    ¡°Says the one who almost suffocated on his laughter!¡± I lash back. ¡°An old-ass man like you has to laugh at anything to find substance in his empty life!¡±

    ¡°Ha-ha!¡± Shivror continues laughing, despite my provocations ¡°And now he acts like nothing happened! This is too much! Ha-fuck!¡± Shivror crumples as my fist strikes his torso. My fist recoils in pain. Those scales of his are hard as hell. Despite that punch, he continues to laugh crazily, like some sort of lunatic. "And you were trying to hide it? It was so obvious the entire time I didn''t even think you were trying to hide it!"The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    After what feels like minutes to me, Shivror finally calms down, still giving out the occasional wheeze.

    ¡°Ahh, that was a good laugh.¡± Shivror returns to his senses.

    ¡°Your sense of humour has to be really messed up to find something like that so funny.¡± I reply nonchalantly.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s what decades of this place does to you.¡±

    ¡°In hindsight, I guess that makes sense¡­¡±

    Letting out a sigh, I grab my sword from the floor.

    ¡°I¡¯m ready to start training again, so let¡¯s go.¡± I demand Shivror as I turn away, walking over to the dummies.

    ¡°I did think about it seriously you know.¡±

    His words cause me to circle around, stopping me in my tracks, but I remain silent. His glowing eyes narrow as they turn to the horizon, lost in thought.

    ¡°I honestly do think that you¡¯re ready. I¡¯ve watched you grow day by day, from when you barely hold a sword to being able to strike with reasonable precision. Because of this, I believe you¡¯ll be able to handle the first Trial, regardless of what it is.¡±

    ¡°Heh?¡± I say, anger leaking out of my words ¡°How can you be so sure?! You don¡¯t even know what it fucking is! Do you want to see me die again so badly!?¡±

    ¡°Can you not trust me?¡± Shivror retains his calm tone, despite my outburst. ¡°I know best, I am the one who taught you, right?¡± He gives me a grin which I can¡¯t help but find annoying.

    He reassuringly grabs my shoulder, relieving me of my tension.

    ¡°Just don¡¯t worry¡± he says. ¡°And don¡¯t be so scared about talking about the Trials. ''We don¡¯t bite'', as those humans say...¡±

    ¡°You look like you certainly would¡­¡± I chuckle.

    ¡°What was that?¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡± I reply. ¡°But for real though, thank you.¡±

    Given how I usually act, I¡¯m not sure if I got that across, but I really meant it from the bottom of my heart.

    However, just as I try to walk away, his grasp on my shoulder tightens.

    ¡°Not so fast. What did you call me earlier? A what-ass man? Would you care to remind me?¡±

    Uh oh.

    The rest of my training was more painful than it should¡¯ve been.

    ¡­

    I¡¯ve decided that if I¡¯m going to reattempt the Trials, it should be as soon as possible. I¡¯ve faced the demon known as procrastination more than enough times, so there''s no need to explain why delaying this further is a bad idea.

    Looking back on it, if that conversation hadn¡¯t happened, how long would I have put this off for? It¡¯s not because I wasn¡¯t ready, but it¡¯s because I was being a pussy. What kind of half-assed determination was I training with? Training and training but never reaching my end goal. I was just lying to myself the whole time, and I¡¯m ashamed of it. Good thing I¡¯m back on track now.

    Anyways, maybe I¡¯m being overly hasty, but I plan on leaving tonight. Right now, I¡¯m just looking back at my diagrams and notes, making sure my strategy is firm in my mind.

    It¡¯s kind of funny. It¡¯s almost like I¡¯m cramming for a test the night before¡ªrushing to memorise every detail. No matter how much you¡¯ve crammed, you can¡¯t help but feel like you¡¯ve overlooked some crucial detail. A clinging unease, always nagging at you from the back of your mind.

    Even for me, someone who naturally gets good grades. The feeling never went away. Fortunately, I¡¯ve always found studying easy, and I¡¯m grateful for it. Thank you, my brain.

    Oops, I¡¯m getting off-topic. It¡¯s almost time for me to go. Everyone that would sleep probably is by now. And I doubt Titan is even going to question anything if he sees me outside. Robots aren¡¯t very inquisitive.

    I tuck the diagrams under my bed and head towards the door. Since I wasn¡¯t sure what to wear, I¡¯m in my second pair of clothing. A dark grey V-neck with some equally grey trousers. Since there¡¯s nothing like pyjamas here, this is the best thing for indoor wear and sleeping.

    The door opens with a creak as I carefully peek about. The coast is clear, so under the guise of the night, I make my way down the hill.

    Though it isn¡¯t quite that dramatic, since it isn¡¯t exactly nighttime. The sky looks almost the same, except that the blue nebulae are significantly dimmer. It¡¯s kind of like a nightlight has been turned on. Dark enough to unsettle, yet not enough to conceal

    I pass by familiar landmarks. The boulder that I still visit during the mornings. The fields that provide our bland but nourishing food. The training grounds I¡¯ve recently begun to visit daily. And finally¡­

    At the end of the path, a massive gate towers over me. Its cold surface is etched with unyielding patterns, and the blue lights glare through the darkness like unblinking eyes. It¡¯s no less intimidating than before, maybe even more so. But I¡¯ve already resolved myself. I can¡¯t turn back now.

    Although the conditions are completely different, this situation feels nostalgic. I took my first steps to change my life those few years ago. And now, I find myself doing the same once more.

    If I¡¯ve done it before, I can do it again.

    Yes, that¡¯s how it should be.

    With a deep breath, I place my hand on the gate.

    ¡­

    It¡¯s a weird feeling, remarkably different compared to my first time. The transportation is instantaneous, however the feeling that something happened in between still lingers.

    My surroundings are instantly replaced, and I find myself in a familiar blue-lit corridor. It is identical to how it was last time. Even the azure flames of the torches are still burning as brilliantly as before.

    The situation is completely the same, the sword and shield are lay out in front of me, in pristine condition. The only difference is that my clothing is what I was wearing before entering, not my school uniform, though that is negligible.

    I pick up my weapons and begin walking down the tunnel. Fear is now a foreign concept; each step I take is full of steely resolve.

    The ten-minute walk to the second gate feels like a blur. I come to a stop as I stare down the colossal gate. Behind this holds the source of all my worries and nightmares.

    But now, there¡¯s nothing to worry about, because I¡¯m going to win. It¡¯s not like before:

    This time I¡¯m ready.

    The gate slides open, sending powerful tremors throughout the tunnel. Paying no heed to them, I march on inside.

    The gate closes behind me with a final resounding thud, sealing my fate. The earth begins to tremble beneath by feet before exploding into a violent burst of dust in front of me. A familiar yet ferocious beast crawls out of the pit, teeth bared as its shadowy aura seeps into the air around it. It stands on guard, as if its purpose is to prevent me from reaching the gate behind it.

    Last time, I couldn¡¯t even kill a single one, but this time, I¡¯m certain.

    I will see what is behind that door.

    With a sharp exhale, I ready my weapons as I surge forward with determination, charging at the beast.