《Anvesh》 Ch-1 the weight of chains --- The chains were the first thing Ray felt each morning¡ªcold, rusted iron biting into his wrists. The slavers of Recca City didn¡¯t bother with padding. Scars were cheaper. *Clank¡­ clank¡­* He shuffled forward, his bare feet numb against the frozen cobblestones. Winter had clawed its way into the slums, turning the air to knives. Around him, the other slaves hunched like specters, their ragged breaths fogging the dawn light. None spoke. Words were a luxury reserved for the free. ¡°Move, maggots!¡± A whip cracked, and the **young man** beside Ray collapsed. The slaver¡ªa wiry youth named Jarek, with a face like a rat and a laugh like broken glass¡ªgrinned as he kicked the **young man¡¯s** ribs. ¡°Pathetic. Can¡¯t even walk?¡± Jarek sneered, raising his whip again. Ray kept his head down, his pulse throbbing in his ears. *Don¡¯t look. Don¡¯t react.* But he¡¯d seen this before. The **young man¡¯s** eyes were glassy, his lips blue. The cursed sleep was taking him. *He¡¯s not collapsing from exhaustion. He¡¯s being called to the trial.* The thought flickered in Ray¡¯s mind, bitter and unwelcome. The cursed sleep wasn¡¯t just fatigue¡ªit was a **harbinger**. For decades, whispers had spread through the slums: those marked by the Dead Gods would fall into a sleep that eroded their souls. If they survived the trial, they¡¯d awaken with power. Freedom. A place in the government¡¯s ranks. But if they failed? Their bodies would rot where they fell. Jarek¡¯s whip struck the **young man¡¯s** throat, cutting off his wheezing breaths. ¡°No!¡± The cry tore from Ray before he could stop it. Jarek turned, his smirk widening. ¡°Got a problem, slave?¡± Ray clenched his jaw. *Idiot. Why did you speak?* But the **young man¡¯s** face¡ªgaunt, resigned¡ªmirrored his father¡¯s in those final moments. Another victim of the sleep. Another corpse denied the trial.Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°N-No, sir,¡± Ray muttered, staring at the ground. ¡°Smart boy.¡± Jarek spat on the **young man¡¯s** body. ¡°This one¡¯s done. Toss him in the river.¡± Two slaves dragged the corpse away, their faces blank. Ray¡¯s stomach churned. The government¡¯s laws were clear: anyone entering the cursed sleep was to be secured and reported. But Jarek didn¡¯t care. To him, the slaves were meat. And meat didn¡¯t deserve trials. --- The group trudged onward, the city gates looming ahead. Beyond them lay the mines¡ªYuhon Trading Company¡¯s death sentence for the ¡°unworthy.¡± Ray¡¯s legs trembled, but he forced himself to stay upright. *I can¡¯t sleep. Not yet. Not here.* The cursed sleep had been gnawing at him for days. It started as a whisper in his dreams¡ªa voice urging him to *let go*. Then came the visions: a desert, a temple, a beast made of sand. He¡¯d resisted, chewing his tongue until it bled to stay awake. If he slept now, under Jarek¡¯s watch, he¡¯d never wake up. ¡°Almost there,¡± a slave beside him whispered. A girl, no older than twelve, her eyes hollow. ¡°The mines¡­ they say it¡¯s warmer underground.¡± Ray didn¡¯t answer. He¡¯d heard stories of the mines. Dark pits where slaves vanished, their screams swallowed by the earth. But the cold above ground was just as lethal. A carriage waited at the gates, its iron bars caked in grime. Inside, shackles gleamed. Jarek shoved the slaves forward, laughing as they stumbled. ¡°Line up! The Yuhon heir wants his stock *inspected*.¡± Ray¡¯s breath hitched. The Yuhon heir¡ªYusuf. A man as feared as the cursed sleep itself. Rumor said he¡¯d once slit a slave¡¯s throat for coughing too loudly. But he followed the law. *All* the laws. A shadow fell over the group. ¡°This is the batch?¡± Yusuf¡¯s voice was gravel, sharp and unyielding. He stood a head taller than Jarek, his face split by a scar that ran from brow to chin. His eyes, cold and calculating, scanned the slaves. ¡°Y-Yes, sir,¡± Jarek stammered, his bravado crumbling. ¡°Prime workers, all of them.¡± Yusuf¡¯s gaze lingered on Ray. ¡°This one¡¯s shaking.¡± Ray froze. *Don¡¯t look up. Don¡¯t¡ª* ¡°Look at me, slave.¡± Reluctantly, Ray raised his head. Yusuf¡¯s eyes were black pits, devoid of mercy. ¡°You¡¯re marked,¡± Yusuf said quietly. Ray¡¯s blood turned to ice. *He knows.* The cursed sleep left signs¡ªa faint glow in the veins, visible only to those who knew to look. Yusuf leaned closer, his voice a whisper. ¡°You¡¯ll sleep soon. Let¡¯s hope you¡¯re strong enough to wake.¡± Before Ray could respond, Yusuf turned to Jarek. ¡°Secure them. The marked ones go to the holding cells. Protocol must be followed.¡± Jarek¡¯s face paled. ¡°B-But sir, the mines¡ª¡± ¡°Are you questioning me?¡± ¡°N-No, sir!¡± Yusuf¡¯s lip curled. ¡°The law is clear. Any slave entering the trial is property of the state. Fail to comply, and you¡¯ll join them in the cells.¡± Jarek nodded frantically, but his eyes burned with rage as he yanked Ray¡¯s chain. ¡°You heard him! Move!¡± Ray stumbled, his vision blurring. The cursed sleep pulled at him, relentless. *Just a little longer¡­* But Yusuf¡¯s presence changed things. The man was a monster, but he followed the rules. If Ray slept now, he¡¯d be taken to a cell, not killed. Survive the trial, and he¡¯d walk free. *Awakened.* The word ignited something in him¡ªa spark of hope. He¡¯d seen an Awakened once, years ago. A woman from the slums, her eyes blazing with unnatural light. She¡¯d torn through a gang of slavers like paper. *I could be like her. I could burn this place to the ground.* But first, he had to survive. The slaves were herded into the carriage, the door clanging shut behind them. Jarek¡¯s face appeared at the bars, his smile venomous. ¡°Enjoy your trial, *challenger*,¡± he sneered. ¡°When you fail, I¡¯ll be the one dragging your corpse to the river.¡± Ray didn¡¯t answer. The cursed sleep was rising now, a tide of shadows at the edge of his vision. He slumped against the wall, his body giving in. *Ding.* A bell tolled in the darkness. ¡°Awaken, mortal challenger.¡± When Ray opened his eyes, the world was sand. --- Ch-2 The Hourglass Desert --- **Chapter 2: The Hourglass Desert** Scorching heat, shimmering sand, and a parched throat were the first things Ray noticed after opening his eyes. *Mortal¡­ your challenge for the Rites of the Gods begins now. Time is precious, chose wisely and ....Survive.* The voice echoed in his mind, hollow and ancient, sending a chill down his spine despite the oppressive heat. Ray blinked, his vision adjusting to the blinding sunlight. ¡°Damnit¡­ it¡¯s never easy,¡± he muttered, his voice cracking from thirst. ¡°Survive here, huh?¡± He looked around, but the desert offered no answers. Endless dunes stretched in every direction, their golden peaks shimmering like liquid under the sun. The only landmarks were jagged rock formations jutting from the sand like broken teeth. ''This is my trial? A desert?'' Ray¡¯s stomach churned. Survival meant water, shelter, food¡ªthings this barren wasteland seemed determined to deny him. He wiped the sweat from his brow and squinted at the sun, its position fixed unnaturally high in the sky. Deciding to escape the relentless heat, Ray turned away from the sun and began walking. Each step was a struggle¡ªthe sand shifted beneath his feet, dragging him down, while the heat sapped his strength. By the time he reached a cluster of rocks, barely 500 meters away, he collapsed, his chest heaving. Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°This¡­ isn¡¯t normal,¡± he gasped, clutching his side. ¡°I¡¯m weak, but not this weak.¡± He looked back at the path he¡¯d taken, his brow furrowed. Something was wrong. His body felt heavier, his hands rougher. He held them up, squinting in the sunlight. ''My hands¡­'' The calluses from years of labor were still there, but his skin looked older, weathered. Lines etched his palms, and his veins stood out more prominently. ¡°I¡¯m aging,¡± he whispered, his voice trembling. ¡°Aging faster than I should be.¡± The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. The desert wasn¡¯t just stealing his strength¡ªit was stealing his *time*. Ray clenched his fists, his frustration boiling over. ¡°Choose? What choice do I have? There¡¯s nothing here but sand!¡± But the voice didn¡¯t answer. Gritting his teeth, Ray forced himself to his feet. He couldn¡¯t afford to waste time. The rocks offered some shade, but they wouldn¡¯t save him. He needed to find something¡ªanything¡ªthat could help him survive. Climbing onto the tallest rock, he scanned the horizon. To his left, a faint shimmer caught his eye¡ªan oasis, its waters sparkling like a mirage. His heart leapt, but he quickly dismissed it. ''It¡¯s too far. And it might not even be real.'' To his right, however, something solid stood out against the golden dunes. A dark, blurry structure, barely visible but unmistakable. It was closer than the oasis, and it didn¡¯t shimmer like a mirage. ''That¡¯s my best bet.: Ray hesitated. The structure was still several kilometers away, and every step would age him further. But the oasis was even farther, and its promise of water might be an illusion. ¡°I¡¯ll never make it to the oasis,¡± he muttered. ¡°But I might reach that structure.¡± He climbed down from the rocks and began walking, his steps measured and deliberate. This time, he paid close attention to the changes in his body. With every step, his muscles ached a little more, his skin grew a little drier, and his breath came a little harder. ''Days¡­ weeks¡­ I¡¯m losing time with every step.'' The thought terrified him, but he pushed it aside. Fear wouldn¡¯t save him. He had to keep moving. As he trudged through the sand, the sun remained fixed in the sky, its light unrelenting. The desert was eerily silent, save for the crunch of sand under his feet and the occasional whisper of the wind. ''How long have I been walking?'' Time blurred in the desert, its passage marked only by the changes in his body. His hair grew grayer, his hands more wrinkled. But he pressed on, his eyes fixed on the distant structure. ''I can make it. I have to.'' Just as he began to doubt himself, a low growl rumbled through the sand. Ray froze, his heart pounding. ''What was that?'' He scanned the dunes, but the desert was empty. The growl came again, closer this time, and he realized it wasn¡¯t just the wind. ''Something¡¯s out there.'' Ray¡¯s grip tightened on a jagged rock he¡¯d picked up earlier. He didn¡¯t know what was coming, but he wasn¡¯t going down without a fight. --- Chapter 3: The Beast of Sand --- **Chapter 3: The Beast of Sand** The growl came again, low and guttural, vibrating through the sand beneath Ray¡¯s feet. He froze, his grip tightening on the jagged rock in his hand. Something¡¯s out there. The desert was eerily silent, save for the whisper of the wind and the faint crunch of sand shifting underfoot. Ray¡¯s eyes darted across the dunes, searching for the source of the sound. Where is it? A shadow moved to his left, quick and fluid, blending with the rippling heatwaves. Ray spun, his heart pounding, but the shadow was gone. It¡¯s playing with me. He took a cautious step back, his eyes scanning the horizon. The structure he¡¯d been heading toward was still visible in the distance, but it might as well have been on another planet. Between him and safety was something¡ªsomething hungry. The growl came again, closer this time, and Ray¡¯s breath hitched. He could feel it now¡ªa presence, predatory and relentless, circling him like a vulture. I can¡¯t outrun it. I have to fight. He adjusted his grip on the rock, his palms slick with sweat. The beast was toying with him, testing him. He couldn¡¯t afford to panic. A sudden movement to his right¡ªRay swung the rock instinctively, but it met only air. The beast was faster than he¡¯d anticipated, its form flickering like a mirage. What is this thing? A outer creature? It lunged again, and this time, Ray caught a glimpse of it¡ªa creature made of sand, its body shifting and flowing like water. Its eyes glowed faintly, two pinpricks of light in an otherwise featureless face. It¡¯s not real. It can¡¯t be. But the pain was real enough. The beast¡¯s claws raked across his arm, drawing blood. Ray stumbled back, hissing through his teeth. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Focus. It¡¯s fast, but it¡¯s not invincible. He crouched low, his eyes locked on the creature. It circled him, its movements fluid and unpredictable. Ray¡¯s mind raced. He couldn¡¯t outrun it, and he couldn¡¯t outlast it. His only chance was to strike first. The beast lunged again, its claws outstretched. Ray sidestepped, swinging the rock with all his strength. It connected with the creature¡¯s side, sending a spray of sand into the air. The beast let out a guttural roar, its form flickering as it recoiled. Ray didn¡¯t wait¡ªhe pressed the attack, swinging the rock again and again. Each blow scattered more sand, but the creature didn¡¯t fall. It¡¯s regenerating. Panic surged as the beast¡¯s wounds closed almost instantly, its body reforming from the sand around it. Ray backed away, his breath coming in ragged gasps. I can¡¯t kill it. Not like this. The beast lunged again, and this time, Ray wasn¡¯t fast enough. Its claws tore into his shoulder, sending him sprawling into the sand. Pain exploded through his body, but he forced himself to roll away, narrowly avoiding another strike. Think, Ray. Think. The creature was made of sand, but it had a core¡ªa faint glow in its chest, pulsing like a heartbeat. Ray¡¯s eyes narrowed. That¡¯s it. He scrambled to his feet, clutching the rock tightly. The beast circled him, its movements slower now, as if savoring the hunt. Come on. Just a little closer. The creature lunged again, and Ray braced himself. At the last second, he dropped to his knees, swinging the rock upward with all his strength. It struck the beast¡¯s chest, shattering the glowing core. The creature let out a deafening roar, its body collapsing into a heap of sand. Ray fell back, his chest heaving, his body trembling with exhaustion. It¡¯s¡­ dead? He stared at the pile of sand, half-expecting it to reform. But the glow was gone, and the desert was silent once more. The voice echoed in his mind, cold and indifferent. *You have slain a Sand Stalker. Your soul grows stronger.* Ray didn¡¯t respond. His arm throbbed where the beast¡¯s claws had struck, and his shoulder burned with pain. He tore a strip of cloth from his ragged shirt and tied it around the wound, his hands shaking. I can¡¯t stay here. He looked toward the structure he¡¯d been heading for, but the path was blocked¡ªmore shadows moved in the distance, their forms flickering like the beast he¡¯d just fought. There¡¯s too many. I¡¯ll never make it. His only option was the oasis. It was farther, and it might be a mirage, but it was his only chance. I have no choice. Ray forced himself to his feet, his legs trembling with every step. The sun was still fixed in the sky, its light unrelenting. He could feel the desert¡¯s curse working on him, aging him with every step, but he pushed the thought aside. Survive. No matter what. The oasis shimmered in the distance, its waters taunting him. Ray began walking, his steps slow and deliberate. The pain in his shoulder was a constant reminder of the danger he¡¯d faced¡ªand the danger that still lurked in the dunes. I¡¯ll make it. I have to. As he trudged through the sand, the shadows followed, their growls faint but unmistakable. Ray didn¡¯t look back. He kept his eyes on the oasis, his grip tight on the jagged rock. The trial wasn¡¯t over. --- Chapter 4: Echoes of the Past **Chapter 4: Echoes of the Past** The oasis shimmered in the distance, no closer than it had been hours ago. Ray¡¯s body screamed in protest with every step¡ªhis muscles frayed, his wounds festering, his skin weathered into the leathery texture of a man twice his age. The desert¡¯s curse had hollowed him out, aging him into a middle-aged shell while leaving his strength untouched. His shoulder, torn by the beast¡¯s claws, throbbed with infection, and his vision blurred at the edges. Just¡­ keep¡­ moving. He stumbled, catching himself on a half-buried rock. The sun still hung motionless, its heat baking the sand into a furnace. Ray¡¯s throat was parched, his lips cracked and bleeding. He¡¯d stopped sweating hours ago¡ªa dangerous sign. ¡°Ray¡­¡± The voice was soft, familiar. A woman¡¯s voice. He froze, his heart lurching. No. It¡¯s not real. ¡°Ray¡­ over here. I have water.¡± He turned against his better judgment. A figure stood a few meters away¡ªa woman with dark hair and a gentle smile, her arms outstretched. Her face was achingly familiar, pulled from the fog of his earliest memories. Mother. The word lodged in his throat. She looked exactly as she had in the faded fragments of his childhood: warm eyes, a faded scar on her cheek from the slum riots, hands calloused but kind. ¡°Come, Ray,¡± she said, her voice soothing. ¡°You¡¯re safe now.¡± It¡¯s a mirage. A trick. But his feet moved anyway, drawn by a hunger deeper than thirst. The woman¡ªthe *thing*¡ªsmiled wider as he approached, her form flickering faintly at the edges. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°That¡¯s it,¡± she coaxed. ¡°Just a little closer.¡± Ray¡¯s vision swam. He could almost feel her arms around him, smell the faint scent of herbs she¡¯d carried when he was a child. She¡¯d died when he was three, her face blurred by time, but here she was¡ªwhole, alive. She¡¯s not real. She¡¯s not¡ª Her hand brushed his, cold and rough. ¡°I¡¯ve missed you.¡± The illusion shattered. Her fingers sharpened into claws, her face melting into a featureless void of sand. Ray jerked back, but not fast enough¡ªthe beast¡¯s claws grazed his chest, reopening the wound on his shoulder. ¡°Damn you!¡± he snarled, swinging the jagged rock still clutched in his hand. The mirage beast¡ªa shifting, snarling mass of sand and malice¡ªdodged, its form rippling like water. It lunged again, mimicking his mother¡¯s voice. ¡°Why are you hurting me, Ray? Don¡¯t you love me?¡± ¡°Shut up!¡± he roared, swinging wildly. The rock struck the creature¡¯s side, scattering sand, but it reformed instantly. The core. Find the core. He feinted left, baiting the beast to lunge. When it did, he dropped low and stabbed upward, aiming for the faint glow in its chest. The rock pierced the core, and the creature dissolved into a harmless pile of sand. Ray collapsed to his knees, gasping. The wound on his shoulder burned, and his head spun. *Ding. *You have slain a Mirage Weaver. Your soul grows stronger.* He didn¡¯t acknowledge the voice. His hands trembled as he pressed them to his face, the weight of the illusion crushing him. She¡¯s gone. She¡¯s been gone for years. A memory surfaced¡ªfragile, half-formed. He was small, maybe two or three, clinging to his mother¡¯s skirt as smoke filled their shack. Shouts echoed outside, the clang of swords, the smell of burning straw. She¡¯d shoved him under the bed, her voice frantic. ¡°Stay here, Ray. Don¡¯t make a sound.¡± He never saw her again. Tears blurred his vision, mixing with the sweat and sand on his face. The pain of loss was fresh, raw, as if the desert had peeled back the scar tissue of years. Why show me ...her? Why? But he knew. The trial fed on weakness, on longing. It would use every weapon to break him. Ray forced himself to stand, his legs shaking. The oasis still shimmered ahead, a taunting beacon. I must¡­ for those two. He began walking again, each step heavier than the last. The desert stretched endlessly, but he no longer cared. His mother¡¯s face lingered in his mind, not as the mirage had shown her, but as she¡¯d been in life: fierce, loving, *gone*. I¡¯ll survive. Even if its just to spite this Accursed world. The shadows of more beasts circled in the distance, but Ray didn¡¯t look back. --- Chapter 5: The Final Stretch --- **Chapter 5: The Final Stretch** The desert stretched endlessly in all directions, an unforgiving wasteland of shifting dunes and merciless heat. Ray stumbled forward, his body barely holding together. His skin was cracked and blistered, his throat so dry it felt like sandpaper. His legs burned, every step a battle against the weight of exhaustion. But he couldn¡¯t stop. Not now. The oasis shimmered in the distance, its cool waters a cruel mirage taunting him. He didn¡¯t know if it was real. It didn¡¯t matter. He had to reach it. Behind him, the beasts followed. They had been stalking him for hours, their low growls a constant presence in the wind. He hadn¡¯t seen them yet¡ªnot fully¡ªbut he could feel them. Watching. Waiting. Letting exhaustion do their work for them. The thought made his stomach turn. He forced himself to move faster, ignoring the fire in his muscles. His breathing was ragged, each inhale a desperate attempt to pull in air that only burned his lungs. His vision swam. His body was failing. I can¡¯t die here. A growl. Closer this time. Ray clenched his fists, forcing himself to focus. He couldn¡¯t fight¡ªnot like this. He had no weapons, no strength left. If they attacked now, he was done. His only hope was to reach the oasis. If he could just make it there¡­ Another growl, deeper this time. The sound slithered across his skin like ice. Then, he heard it¡ª The sound of claws sinking into sand. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. Ray¡¯s blood turned cold. They weren¡¯t waiting anymore. A burst of movement behind him. Heavy, rapid footsteps. A presence closing in. They¡¯re coming! Ray threw himself forward, his body screaming in protest. The oasis was so close now. Just a little more¡ª Something slammed into him from behind. The impact sent him sprawling, rolling across the burning sand. Pain exploded across his ribs as he skidded to a stop, the taste of blood filling his mouth. A deep, guttural growl rumbled from above. Ray forced himself to look up. The creature towered over him, its body covered in thick, matted fur, patches of skin missing to reveal raw, pulsing flesh beneath. Its glowing eyes burned into him, filled with nothing but hunger. Ray¡¯s breath hitched. This wasn¡¯t a beast. It was something worse. The creature stepped closer, its massive claws sinking into the sand. It was savoring the moment, watching as its prey struggled to rise. Ray¡¯s fingers dug into the ground. He tried to push himself up, but his arms trembled, barely able to hold his weight. The beast tensed. It¡¯s going to pounce. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. He had no chance. No strength left to fight. No way to run. Is this how it ends? Then, the ground trembled beneath him. Ray froze. It wasn¡¯t the beast. This was something else. A whisper¡ªsoft yet deafening¡ªechoed through the air. It came from the dunes behind him, slithering through the wind like a voice from the grave. The beast hesitated. Its ears twitched. Its glowing eyes flickered with unease. Ray felt it too. A presence. Something ancient. Watching. Waiting. Then¡ª The sand beneath him collapsed. Ray plunged into the darkness, the roar of the beast vanishing above him. He hit the ground hard, pain lancing through his body. The world spun, his vision barely adjusting to the dim light of his new surroundings. A cavern. The air was cold. Unnatural. Shadows clung to the walls, writhing like living things. He groaned, trying to move¡ªbut then he heard it. A sound. Not a growl. Not a whisper. Something breathing. Slow. Deep. Heavy. Ray¡¯s pulse stuttered. He wasn¡¯t alone. A single torch flickered to life, its pale blue flame casting an eerie glow over the cavern. And then¡ª A figure emerged from the darkness. Tall. Gaunt. Cloaked in shadows that moved unnaturally, as if they were alive. Its face was hidden beneath a hood, its features obscured by an unnatural void. Ray¡¯s body locked up. The thing¡ªwhatever it was¡ªtilted its head, as if studying him. Then, in a voice that was both whisper and thunder, it spoke. "You do not belong here." The words crashed into him like a physical force. His mind reeled, his thoughts splintering apart. The cavern trembled. The shadows reached for him, curling around his limbs like grasping fingers. Ray tried to scream. But there was no sound. Only the suffocating weight of darkness, dragging him into the abyss. And then¡ª --- Chapter 6: Breathing in the Labyrinth **Chapter 6: Breathing in the Labyrinth** Ray¡¯s lungs felt like they were on fire as he finally stopped running. His knees wobbled, and his entire body ached from head to toe. He sank onto the strange floor beneath him, pressing one hand against it to steady himself. It looked solid in some places, but in others, it shimmered like thick oil. Even so, it held his weight. He let out a shaky breath and stared at the walls towering around him. They weren¡¯t like normal stone walls. Their surfaces flickered with patches of dim, ghostly light that seemed to crawl over the uneven surfaces. Some sections were smooth, reflecting a distorted version of his face. Others were covered in cracks that appeared and disappeared as if they were never really there. When he squinted, the corridors ahead seemed to twist at odd angles, warping in and out of focus. A single thought flickered through his tired mind:Where am I? He remembered the cavern, the hooded figure, and then... waking up here. The place made no sense. It felt endless, yet also claustrophobic. He could see hallways curving away in the distance, but when he tried to follow them, they sometimes vanished into darkness or bent in on themselves. ¡°On the bright side, I am not old anymore,¡± Ray muttered, half-laughing to himself. It was true¡ªhis hands looked younger than they had when he¡¯d stumbled around the desert, and his joints no longer felt stiff. He didn¡¯t know why, and the thought worried him almost as much as it comforted him. Everything in this maze seemed impossible. For a moment, he closed his eyes and listened. There was a soft hum in the air, almost like the distant drone of machinery or the buzz of insects, but he couldn¡¯t pinpoint where it came from. Every so often, he thought he heard a faint tapping noise, or maybe a low growl, echoing somewhere beyond these walls. His heart lurched each time, but it always faded before he could be sure what it was. He rubbed his stomach, grimacing. The gnawing hunger had become a constant ache, and his throat was dry. He hadn¡¯t eaten properly since before the desert, and he was still battered and bruised from everything that had happened. If he didn¡¯t find water soon, he wouldn¡¯t last long. A flicker of movement caught his eye. Far down the corridor, the walls glowed a little brighter, revealing what looked like a jagged shape lying on the floor. Ray hesitated. His instincts screamed that it could be a trap¡ªor worse, the creature he sensed lurking in this place. But he had to investigate; there was nowhere else to go, and he needed any resource he could find. Slowly, he stood and began walking toward the shape, each step sending echoes down the corridor. The floor felt uneven, sometimes soft underfoot, sometimes almost rigid. He moved carefully, afraid that a wrong step might send him plummeting into a hidden pit or cause the corridor to shift. As he approached, the shape resolved into something that made his stomach churn. It looked like a partially devoured carcass of a small animal¡ªor what was left of it. The bones were cracked, and scraps of flesh clung to them, glistening in the labyrinth¡¯s pale light. Ray swallowed hard. Did the beast do this? The sight was gruesome, but he couldn¡¯t look away. His hunger twisted inside him, a reminder that he was on the brink of starvation.If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. He knelt, swallowing back revulsion. He had never imagined he¡¯d be so desperate as to consider eating something like this, but he needed strength to keep going. With shaky hands, he picked off a small chunk of meat that hadn¡¯t yet rotted. The smell was awful, but he forced himself to chew, trying not to gag. It tasted foul¡ªmetallic and bitter¡ªbut at least it was something. He spat out anything too tough to swallow. Nearby, a thin puddle of liquid had gathered in a shallow depression on the floor. It might have been water, or perhaps some fluid from the creature¡¯s body. The thought made him shiver, but thirst won out over caution. He dipped his fingers in, took a tiny sip, and almost retched. It was stale and tasted slightly of blood, but it was wet. He drank just enough to moisten his mouth and swallowed carefully, hoping it wouldn¡¯t poison him. He stayed there for a moment, panting quietly, waiting to see if the meager meal would make him sick. When his stomach only grumbled, he decided that he had no other choice but to continue onward. At least I can stand, he told himself, feeling the slightest bit of energy return to his limbs. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve and glanced around. This section of the maze was narrower, with walls that bent inward at odd angles. Dim lights shimmered along the cracks, casting jittery shadows that shifted as he moved. At times, the corridor seemed to stretch, as though it were growing longer with each step he took. Other times, it felt like the walls were leaning in, making him squeeze through tight spaces that appeared out of nowhere. As he continued walking, he passed an area where the floor had turned transparent, revealing a swirling darkness beneath. He tried not to look down for too long, afraid he might see something staring back. His skin prickled, and he kept moving, heart hammering. That faint tapping noise returned, echoing from somewhere behind him. It sounded like claws or hooves scraping against the floor, moving in slow, deliberate steps. Ray froze, listening with every nerve on edge. Could that be the beast? The idea of facing it in these cramped corridors made his mouth go dry again. He knew he didn¡¯t stand a chance in a fight. Quietly, he crept forward, trying to keep his footsteps light. The tapping noise would fade, then return, sometimes louder, sometimes softer. It was impossible to tell which direction it was coming from. This place played tricks on his ears, bouncing sounds in ways that made no sense. After what felt like hours of wandering, Ray stumbled upon a small alcove in the wall¡ªa shallow recess just large enough for him to crouch inside. He ducked into it, pressing his back against the cool surface. A weak, flickering light ran in thin veins along the wall, pulsing gently. He breathed slowly, hoping the alcove would give him a chance to rest and gather his wits. His eyes drifted shut, but he forced them open again.I can¡¯t sleep here, he thought. Not when that thing is out there. Instead, he focused on the flickering light in front of him. It pulsed like a heartbeat, steady and mesmerizing. For a moment, it was almost comforting. The tapping noise returned, closer now. Ray¡¯s breath caught, and he held perfectly still. He felt sure that if he so much as coughed, the beast¡ªwhatever it was¡ªwould hear him. The sound lingered, like it was searching, then moved on. The echoes took a long time to fade. Only after the silence settled again did Ray finally shift position. His body screamed for rest, and the scraps of food in his stomach felt like a stone, but at least he wasn¡¯t on the brink of passing out anymore. He ran a hand over his face, noticing that his skin looked younger than before. He still felt worn out, but not the same old, weathered exhaustion he¡¯d suffered in the desert. ¡°On the bright side, I am not old anymore,¡± he repeated, trying to summon a bit of humor. The words felt hollow in this nightmare, but saying them out loud gave him a tiny spark of hope. He pushed himself to his feet, stepping out from the alcove. The corridor before him shifted as if it were breathing, and the faint lights glowed and dimmed in an uneven pattern. Somewhere in the distance, a quiet scrape echoed through the darkness. Ray tightened his fists. I have to keep moving. And so he walked, each step carrying him deeper into the labyrinth, unsure if he was closer to escape or only plunging further into a place that defied all reason. Chapter 7: A Predator in the Maze Chapter 7: A Predator in the Maze Ray¡¯s footsteps echoed softly as he moved through the ever-shifting corridors of the labyrinth. The walls breathed¡ªhe was sure of it now. He could feel the air pressing against his skin, the faintest sensation of movement, as if the maze itself was alive. The patches of light flickered unpredictably, making it impossible to trust what he saw. He clenched his teeth and focused on walking. His body ached, the wound on his side a dull, throbbing reminder of how close to death he had already come. The tiny scraps of food he had scavenged had done little to ease the hollow pit in his stomach. He was still starving. And something was following him. The slow, deliberate tapping of claws against the ground had returned. It wasn¡¯t constant, nor was it rhythmic. Sometimes, it was distant, just at the edge of his hearing. Other times, it felt right behind him, vanishing just as he turned his head. The maze played tricks on sound, but one thing was clear¡ªwhatever it was, it was hunting him. Ray exhaled through his nose and forced himself to keep moving at a steady pace. Running blindly wouldn¡¯t help. He had tried that before, and the corridors had shifted, twisting his path and leading him nowhere. He had to think. It¡¯s waiting for something. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. The beast could have attacked already if it wanted to. Instead, it was letting him wander, keeping just out of reach. Maybe it wanted him weaker. Maybe it was toying with him. He tightened his grip on the shard of bone he had taken from the carcass earlier. It wasn¡¯t much of a weapon, but it was better than nothing. Ahead, the hallway slanted downward, the ground becoming slick beneath his feet. He placed one hand against the wall to steady himself, ignoring the way it pulsed under his touch. The air grew colder. And then¡ª Drip. Ray stopped. His breath caught in his throat. Water. He barely dared to believe it, but the sound was unmistakable. He rushed forward, heart pounding, his thirst momentarily overriding all other concerns. The corridor widened into a small chamber, and at its center, a thin stream of liquid seeped from a crack in the wall, pooling in a shallow basin formed by the uneven floor.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. It wasn¡¯t much, but it was water. He crouched down and cupped his hands, drinking greedily. It was cold, metallic-tasting, but he didn¡¯t care. Each gulp soothed the burning in his throat. He splashed some over his face, savoring the coolness. Then he froze. The tapping sound had stopped. Ray¡¯s breath came in shallow gasps. The labyrinth was silent. Too silent. Slowly, he turned his head. The corridor behind him stretched into shifting darkness. No movement, no sign of anything. But the presence was there. He could feel it, waiting. He swallowed hard and took one last mouthful of water before standing. His legs were shaky, but his mind felt clearer. He wasn¡¯t about to sit here and let whatever was hunting him make the first move. He took a cautious step forward. Then another. And then¡ª A shape moved. It was barely more than a shadow against the flickering walls, but it was there. A low, guttural breath rasped through the corridor, sending a chill through Ray¡¯s body. He didn¡¯t wait to see what it was. He ran. The labyrinth twisted as he sprinted through it. Corridors stretched longer, then abruptly shortened, walls appearing where there had been none. His pulse thundered in his ears. The tapping sound returned, faster now, keeping pace with him. He rounded a corner and¡ªstumbled. The ground wasn¡¯t solid. It had become soft, almost like wet clay. His feet sank slightly, and a horrible squelching noise filled the air. He bit back a curse and pushed forward, forcing his legs to move. A deep, rattling growl rolled through the maze. It wasn¡¯t right behind him anymore. It was above. Ray¡¯s eyes darted upward. The walls stretched into darkness, and for a second, he saw something move against the shifting ceiling. It¡¯s climbing. His stomach twisted. He wasn¡¯t just dealing with a beast on the ground¡ªthis thing could move through the maze however it pleased. His foot caught on something, and he crashed to the ground. Pain shot through his body as he rolled onto his back, gasping for air. And then he saw it. A dark, skeletal figure clung to the wall above him, its elongated limbs wrapped around the shifting surface. Its face was wrong¡ªtoo many eyes, too many teeth. Black saliva dripped from its mouth as it tilted its head, watching him. Ray didn¡¯t think. He acted. He hurled the bone shard with all his strength. It struck the creature¡¯s shoulder, barely scratching it, but it moved. Its head snapped toward where the shard had fallen, giving Ray just enough time to roll to his feet and sprint down the corridor. He didn¡¯t look back. The walls blurred around him as he ran, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and something rotting. The corridors twisted, but he didn¡¯t slow. Every step was a desperate gamble, hoping the maze would lead him somewhere¡ªanywhere¡ªthat wasn¡¯t straight into the monster¡¯s waiting claws. His lungs burned. His legs felt like they were made of lead. But he didn¡¯t stop. Somewhere in the distance, he heard the creature screech¡ªa horrible, distorted sound that made his skull feel like it was splitting open. The labyrinth pulsed around him, the flickering lights dimming. The air grew thick, almost suffocating. And then¡ª The ground vanished. Ray¡¯s body lurched forward as he fell, weightless for a brief, terrifying second. Darkness swallowed him whole. And then¡ªnothing. Chapter 8: Echoes Below Chapter 8: Echoes Below Ray¡¯s head throbbed as he drifted back to consciousness. Every muscle in his body ached in protest when he tried to move, but at least he was alive. He lay on his back, staring into a darkness broken only by faint, flickering lights along the walls. The air was heavier here, carrying a damp chill that clung to his skin. He pushed himself into a sitting position, wincing at the soreness spreading through his limbs. The floor beneath him felt strange¡ªspongy, almost like damp moss or old, rotting fabric. Running a hand over its surface, he shuddered as it shifted slightly under his touch. Where am I now? The chamber around him was vast, its walls curving upward into a ceiling that vanished into gloom. Dim lights pulsed along the surfaces in slow waves, casting shifting shadows that made it seem like the entire space was breathing. The last thing he remembered was the ground vanishing beneath him, sending him plummeting into darkness. He felt lucky he hadn¡¯t broken anything. His shoulder throbbed, and his ribs ached with each breath, but he could still stand¡ªif he tried. Taking a moment to check himself, he found his makeshift bandages still in place, though they were dirty and damp. His mouth felt like sandpaper, and a gnawing hunger twisted his stomach. The few bites of rancid meat he¡¯d eaten earlier hadn¡¯t been enough, and the small amount of water he¡¯d found was long gone. As he steadied himself against the wall, his thoughts drifted to the creatures he had encountered so far. The memory of that thing on the ceiling, with its too many eyes and rows of jagged teeth, sent a chill through him. Then there were the beasts in the desert. They should have been Dormants¡ªmindless, instinct-driven creatures. The lack of coordination in their attacks meant they were likely just Beasts or, at most, Demons. But that thing just now... There¡¯s no way something like that is part of the first Outer Trial. It had to be at least a Fallen Demon or, worse, a Devil. Outer creatures were ranked by the quality of their soul cores, from 1 to 7: Dormant, Fallen, Accursed, Corrupted, Oni, Titan, and Unholy. Dormants were the weakest. Unholy creatures were nothing more than legend¡ªno one had seen one, but everyone knew they existed. Each rank was further divided by the number of soul cores they possessed, ranging from 1 to 7: Beast, Monster, Demon, Devil, Empyreal, Tyrant, and Nyxar. With every increase in core count, their intelligence grew as well¡ªthough it was an insanity-driven intelligence, incomprehensible to humans.A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Ray shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the present. Freaking out won¡¯t help. He needed to find a way out. With unsteady steps, he moved along the wall, running his fingertips across its shifting surface. The texture varied¡ªsome areas were warm, others unnervingly cold, as if he were touching different parts of a living creature. After a few steps, something caught his eye¡ªhalf-buried in the spongy floor. Bending down, he found bits of broken metal, perhaps remnants of a shattered weapon or tool. It was hard to tell in the poor light. Whatever it was, it meant he wasn¡¯t the first person to end up here. He pocketed the largest fragment, hoping it would serve as a better weapon than the bone shard he had discarded earlier. As he did, he noticed faint markings near the base of the wall¡ªscratches or carvings arranged in an unfamiliar pattern. Some lines curved smoothly, others jagged and sharp. Could these be letters?If they were, he couldn¡¯t read them. The chamber narrowed into a long passage, its floor sloping gently downward. A thin mist curled around his ankles, swirling with every step. Occasional drips of water echoed through the silence, and every so often, he heard a faint hiss¡ªbut couldn¡¯t pinpoint the source. The flickering lights above sometimes brightened, revealing disturbing details¡ªthe walls dotted with pulsing lumps, the cracks in the floor oozing a dark, tar-like substance. Other times, the light dimmed so much he could barely see his own hand in front of his face. Stay calm. Panicking will just get me killed. The passage opened into a smaller chamber. In the corner, something glimmered¡ªa shallow pool of liquid, collecting from a slow drip above. Cautiously, Ray knelt beside it. The surface was murky, but when he dipped his fingers in, it felt wet and cold. Bringing a few drops to his lips, he hesitated. The taste was metallic, bitter¡ªbut it was better than nothing. He drank carefully, knowing it could be dangerous but unwilling to risk dehydration. The cool liquid soothed his parched throat, offering a brief reprieve. At least I won¡¯t collapse from thirst. Standing, he noticed a glow farther down another corridor. Unlike the pulsing lights of the walls, this one was steadier¡ªlike a lantern¡¯s distant gleam. His pulse quickened. Could someone else be down here? He edged forward, keeping quiet. The deeper he ventured, the more the walls took on an organic quality¡ªalmost fleshy in places. The air thickened with a stale, unfamiliar scent. His foot suddenly sank into the floor, as if stepping into mud. He stumbled, catching himself against the wall, breathing heavily. The glow ahead brightened. Peering around a bend, he spotted a small alcove in the corridor. Nestled on a ledge was a faintly glowing orb, no larger than his fist. It pulsed with a bluish light, illuminating the alcove. Ray stepped closer, both fascinated and wary. The orb wasn¡¯t a torch or a lantern, yet it gave off a steady glow, making the surrounding walls shimmer. He reached out but hesitated. Is this a trap? Glancing around, he saw no movement. The passage was silent except for the faint hum that seemed to emanate from the walls themselves. Steeling himself, he touched the orb. The instant his fingers made contact, the light flared. He recoiled, shielding his eyes. For a few seconds, the world was bathed in pale blue radiance¡ªthen it dimmed, returning to its soft, rhythmic pulse. Ray stood still, breath caught in his chest. He felt no pain, no sudden shock¡ªjust a lingering unease. Maybe it¡¯s harmless. Beyond the alcove, the corridor curved out of sight. With one last glance at the orb, he moved forward. A nagging sensation settled in his mind. Something down here¡ªbeyond the twisted walls and flickering lights¡ªwas watching him. Testing him. Whatever the truth, he had no choice but to keep going. As he walked, the orb¡¯s glow faded behind him. The walls pulsed once more, the air turning colder. His grip tightened on the broken metal shard in his pocket. Sooner or later, I¡¯ll have to face whatever lurks in this place. But first, I need to survive one more day. Chapter 9 – Echoes of the Lost --- **Chapter 9 ¨C Echoes of the Lost** Ray lingered for a moment, glancing back at the fading glow of the orb he had left behind. Its pale light had guided him through the last stretch of corridor, but now the shadows crept in once more. The pulsing walls, slick with condensation, seemed to breathe around him. Each gentle throb made the air feel heavier, as if the labyrinth itself were alive and listening. He tightened his grip on the broken metal shard in his pocket. His throat was still dry, and his stomach ached with hunger, but he pressed on, determined to find a way out¡ªor at least learn more about this strange place. As he ventured deeper, Ray tried to recall every corridor he had passed through, every odd shift in the architecture. The dim, flickering lights made it difficult to track distance, and sometimes a passage that looked straight would bend unexpectedly or lead him back to where he started. Yet, despite the maze¡¯s chaotic appearance, he sensed a kind of pattern lurking beneath the surface. Certain corridors felt older, the walls cracked and crumbling, while others seemed almost new, their fleshy surfaces pulsing more frequently, as though they had formed only recently. His mind wandered back to the desert trial. That place felt endless, but it was nothing compared to this, he thought. At least in the desert, the rules had been simpler: survive the heat, find water, evade the beasts. Here, the labyrinth itself seemed to shift the rules at will. Is it really changing, or am I just going in circles? The question gnawed at him, but he had no answers. Eventually, he spotted a faint discoloration on the floor¡ªa dull, rusty stain trailing along the corridor¡¯s edge. His heart pounded. Blood, dried long ago. Crouching low, he ran a fingertip over the stain. It flaked off like old paint. Something had happened here, and not recently. He stood up and followed the trail around a corner, his pulse quickening with each step. The corridor opened into a wider chamber. Pale light flickered over broken debris scattered across the spongy ground. Ray¡¯s eyes landed on what looked like a collapsed campsite: a rusted lantern, a few scraps of cloth, and a small pack torn open at the seams. Next to it lay a human skeleton, the skull lolling at an awkward angle, its empty sockets seeming to stare at him in accusation. Swallowing hard, Ray approached. The stench of decay was faint¡ªwhatever had happened here must have happened long ago. The skeleton¡¯s bony fingers still clutched a curved dagger, its blade corroded and useless. A battered notebook lay nearby, half-buried in the strange, fibrous floor. Ray reached out, carefully picking it up. The cover was too worn to read, and most of the pages inside were stuck together with some dark residue. Flipping gingerly through what few loose pages remained, he found only smudged ink and torn edges. No words were legible, just blotches of black and brown. *They must¡¯ve tried to record something,* he thought, feeling a pang of sympathy for the unknown explorer. He set the notebook aside, hoping to revisit it if he found a way to separate the pages without destroying them. A series of scratches on the wall caught his eye. Unlike the slow, pulsing lumps elsewhere, this section of the chamber was marred by deep, desperate gouges. Some looked like random slashes, but others formed symbols or letters that he couldn¡¯t decipher. One series of marks, however, was clearer: a crudely drawn arrow pointing toward a tunnel on the far side of the chamber. Next to it, scrawled in shaky lines, were the words No return. Ray felt a chill crawl up his spine.Were they warning themselves, or someone else? He glanced at the skeleton again, wishing he could ask what horrors they had faced. But the dead offered no answers. He forced himself to stand, the small pack and rusted lantern clutched in one hand. Maybe there was something salvageable inside.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. He rifled through the pack, finding little of use: a small metal cup, a torn map of a place he didn¡¯t recognize, and a broken compass with its glass shattered. Disappointed, he stowed the cup and the scrap of map in his pocket. The lantern had no oil left, but he kept it anyway¡ªmetal could be repurposed if needed. A sudden shift in the air made him pause. It felt like a draft, a cool breeze brushing past him. The hairs on the back of his neck rose. I¡¯m not alone. He set the lantern down quietly, gripping his metal shard in one hand. The chamber was silent save for the steady drip of water somewhere in the distance. Yet he couldn¡¯t shake the feeling of being watched. He slowly turned, scanning every flickering shadow. Nothing moved, but the tension pressed in on him like a coiled spring. He inched toward a passage leading out of the chamber, guided by faint streaks of light that seeped through the uneven walls. Each step was measured, careful not to make too much noise. The corridor narrowed, and the pulsing walls on either side seemed to close in, forcing him to walk sideways at one point. The air grew thicker, carrying a stale odor that made his stomach turn. As he crept forward, his foot suddenly snagged on something. Heart hammering, he looked down and realized he¡¯d stumbled over a dislodged chunk of the labyrinth¡¯s strange flooring. It looked like it had been torn away by force, leaving a jagged pit. A dark fluid oozed from the edges, slowly dripping into the hole beneath. Ray swallowed, quickly stepping around it. He didn¡¯t want to guess what might be below¡ªor what might have caused the damage. The corridor opened into another wide expanse, this one partially illuminated by clusters of faintly glowing fungus that clung to the walls in irregular patches. Their soft, pale light revealed more signs of past explorers: a dented helmet, a rotted rope, a few scattered coins. So many came here, Ray thought, and none of them found a way out? He knelt by the rope, testing it with a gentle tug. It disintegrated in his hands, crumbling into dust. Old, he thought, brushing off his palms. Very old. The fungus pulsed faintly, as if reacting to his presence, and he wondered whether it was feeding on the labyrinth or the labyrinth was feeding on it. Either way, it made his skin crawl. Time seemed to stretch on as he walked, passing corridor after corridor, each one revealing more silent evidence of those who had come before. Sometimes it was just a few stray footprints hardened in what looked like dried mud. Other times, it was more gruesome: skeletal remains slumped against walls, rusted blades embedded in the floor, claw marks etched into stone. The deeper he went, the more he realized that each discovery told a story of desperation and defeat. Yet he kept going. I have to, he reminded himself, though the reasons why felt hazy. Survival, yes¡ªbut also the hope that if others had tried to navigate this place, maybe one of them had succeeded. If so, their notes or remnants might lead him to an exit. Or at least show him how to avoid the labyrinth¡¯s deadliest pitfalls. The sense of being watched never left him. At times, he thought he saw a flicker of movement in his peripheral vision¡ªjust a shift in the shadows, gone as soon as he turned his head. Once or twice, he paused, listening intently, certain he heard a soft footstep echo his own. But the corridor would remain empty and still, leaving him with only the unsettling echo of his own heartbeat. Finally, just as he paused to rest against a wall that felt disturbingly warm beneath his palm, he heard it¡ªfootsteps. Not the uneven shuffle of a wounded animal or the scraping of something monstrous. These were deliberate, measured steps, echoing faintly from somewhere behind him. Human steps. He froze, heart thudding. His first instinct was to hide, but there was nowhere to go¡ªthe corridor was too narrow, the walls too smooth to offer any real concealment. Swallowing his fear, he slowly turned around, lifting the broken shard in a trembling hand. A figure emerged from the shadows at the far end of the passage. In the faint glow of the fungus, Ray could make out ragged clothing, a hunched posture, and what looked like a weapon strapped to their waist. They didn¡¯t speak, but they halted upon seeing him, shoulders tensing as though ready for a fight or a flight. Ray¡¯s mind raced. Another person? Alive? After so many silent remains, the reality of meeting someone living felt almost unreal. He tightened his grip on the shard. This could be a threat¡ªor it could be salvation. Neither of them moved for several long, agonizing seconds. The labyrinth¡¯s pulsing walls throbbed in the background, a slow, steady rhythm that matched Ray¡¯s pounding heart. His throat was too dry to speak, and the figure seemed equally uncertain. They stood there, two survivors in a place where survival seemed impossible. Finally, the stranger took a cautious step forward, the soft scrape of a foot against the spongy floor echoing down the corridor. Ray swallowed, forcing himself to remain still, to show neither aggression nor weakness. His mind churned with questions¡ªWho are they? How long have they been here?¡ªbut he kept his mouth shut. The moment felt too fragile, too charged with unspoken tension. In the dim, pulsing light, their gazes locked. Neither said a word. --- Chapter 10: The Lost King Chapter 10: The Lost King "You... You are not one of the chosen ones. Why are you here?" The stranger looked deep into Ray¡¯s eyes, as if seeing through the strong front he was putting up. "I don''t understand. What is a chosen one?" Ray asked, confused. The stranger¡¯s voice remained cautious. "You have no power, your soul is untamed. Why would the guardian send you here...?" He muttered to himself before speaking again. "...Did the guardian send you?" Ray furrowed his brows. "If by ''guardian,'' you mean a guy in a hood inside a hidden temple near the oasis, then yes." He continued, "I was being chased by beasts while trying to reach the oasis. But in a desperate moment, the ground collapsed beneath me, and I ended up inside the temple. A dark figure in a hood sent me here¡ªwherever this is." The stranger seemed to relax a little. He gestured for Ray to follow. "This is not the place for talking. Come with me." They made their way toward a narrow passage carved into the labyrinth¡¯s wall. The entrance was small, just wide enough for two people to crawl through side by side. Once inside, the stranger pulled a broken piece of the wall over the hole, concealing their entrance. "This is safer than staying out there," he said. "I am Alkan, the King of Oasis City in the Tamar Desert." Ray hesitated before responding. "I¡¯m Ray. A former slave¡ªbefore I was transported to the middle of this desert you mentioned." Alkan raised an eyebrow at that but shook his head. "It¡¯s surprising to hear there are still places left where humans survive. But what¡¯s even more shocking is that you made it across the Trial of the Desert as a mere mortal. Perhaps that¡¯s why the guardian sent you here." Ray saw an opportunity to gather more information. "Can you tell me what¡¯s going on?" Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! Alkan sighed. "It¡¯s a long story, but I suppose it¡¯s good to have someone to talk to for once." "As you may know, the world is plagued by the ever-spreading Cursed Sleep. On top of that, rifts to their lands keep opening, pouring out those insane outers. We, the Awakened, have tamed our souls to fight against them¡ªbut it¡¯s not enough. Oasis City is the last refuge, at least as far as I know. "Thirty years ago, in our desperation, the gods bestowed a mission upon us¡ªto find the hero, the one strong enough to lead our broken world against the outer creatures. The guardian is responsible for choosing promising young Awakened to enter this trial in search of that hero." Ray¡¯s expression darkened. "So you¡¯re saying this labyrinth is a trial? A test to find the gods¡¯ chosen hero?" "Yes. This ever-changing labyrinth is where the hero must prove themselves. Only one person can leave and claim that title. The rest¡ªthose who survive¡ªwill become his allies in the coming war." Alkan¡¯s voice grew bitter. "But in thirty years, not a single person has found the way out." Ray was stunned. Alkan¡¯s face told him how hopeless the situation truly was. "How long have you been here?" Ray asked. Alkan¡¯s expression became unreadable. "It¡¯s hard to track time here. But since the guardian sends people once a year... this should be my seventh year." Ray¡¯s eyes widened. "You survived here for seven years? I¡¯ve nearly died a dozen times in just the past few days! How the hell do you survive here, especially with that thing lurking outside?" Alkan¡¯s posture stiffened. "Were you sent to the upper floors?" "Yeah. Weren¡¯t you?" Alkan¡¯s eyes flashed with shock. "Then how did you survive against that outer creature? It¡¯s a full rank above us. Even several of us together couldn¡¯t kill that monster." Ray scratched his cheek awkwardly. "I didn¡¯t kill it. As you said, I¡¯m just a mortal. All I could do was avoid it while searching for food and water. I did run into it once, but... since I was so weak, it let its guard down. That gave me a chance to escape." Alkan exhaled slowly. "You were lucky, then. All of us died confronting that monster. How could a dormant human even face something of the Fallen rank... and a devil, no less? Dammit." Ray hesitated before asking, "Are you the only survivor?" "Yes," Alkan admitted. "This place is massive. Sometimes, we don¡¯t even meet new people for months. And if they¡¯re unlucky, they end up facing the swarms of dormant outers¡­ or worse, that thing above." Ray fell silent. Suspicious. He claims to be the only survivor and has been here for seven years. That means he¡¯s either strong enough to handle this place¡­ or he¡¯s a backstabber. They stayed in the shelter for a few hours before moving again, eventually reaching another hidden alcove. There, Ray finally found a small source of water. He drank greedily, his parched throat finally relieved. For the first time in days, he felt his exhaustion catch up to him. He was still suspicious of Alkan, but there was little he could do in his current state. His body was drained, his mind dull. Even if Alkan decided to kill him in his sleep, there was nothing he could do to stop it. His eyes fluttered shut. And Ray slept. Chapter 11: The Weight of the Trial Chapter 11: The Weight of the Trial Ray awoke to the faint glow of embers in a small fire pit, his eyelids heavy from long-overdue rest. The cramped shelter was silent, save for the distant throb of the labyrinth¡¯s living walls. He pushed himself up with a groan, each muscle protesting. A dull ache lingered in his ribs where the desert beast had nearly ended him, and the stale air here did little to revive him. Across from him, Alkan sat against the curved wall, staring into the dying fire. He held a jagged scrap of metal in one hand, turning it over thoughtfully. ¡°You¡¯re awake,¡± Alkan said, voice low. He didn¡¯t bother looking up. ¡°We have much to discuss.¡± Ray rubbed the sleep from his eyes, memories of the past days¡ªweeks?¡ªflooding back. ¡°You said this place is a trial. Tell me everything.¡± Alkan exhaled, finally meeting Ray¡¯s gaze. His eyes held both weariness and a glimmer of determination. ¡°The labyrinth,¡± he began, ¡°is alive. It shifts constantly¡ªcorridors collapse, walls move, new paths appear out of nowhere. We call it the ¡®Ever-Changing Trial.¡¯ Anyone the guardian deems ¡®worthy¡¯ is sent here to prove themselves. Or die trying.¡± Ray frowned, recalling his arrival. He¡¯d been a slave, fleeing the desert beasts when the ground collapsed beneath him, landing him in some hidden temple. Then the hooded figure¡ªthis so-called ¡®guardian¡¯¡ªhad transported him here without explanation. ¡°And you¡¯re sure only one person is meant to leave?¡± ¡°That¡¯s what we were told,¡± Alkan said, setting aside the metal scrap. ¡°The hero¡ªthe one chosen by the gods¡ªwill conquer the labyrinth and emerge. The rest of us, if we survive, are meant to follow him or her into the war against the outers.¡± A sour taste filled Ray¡¯s mouth. ¡°If no one¡¯s found an exit in thirty years, how are you still alive?¡± Alkan¡¯s jaw tightened, and he glanced at the half-buried entrance to their cramped hideout. ¡°I¡¯ve been here seven years, as far as I can tell. In that time, I¡¯ve seen hundreds of Awakened arrive. Some lasted days, some lasted months. Many died fighting each other or the monsters that roam these corridors. Others simply¡­ vanished. A few lost themselves entirely, becoming as savage as the beasts.¡± His tone turned bitter. ¡°We tried to work together in the beginning¡ªforming teams, searching for a path out. But this labyrinth seems designed to break unity. People got desperate, paranoid. And that thing above us¡ªthe Fallen Devil¡ªpicked us off whenever we grew strong.¡± Ray remembered his own brush with the outer creature that haunted the upper floors: an abomination with intelligence and power far beyond anything a mere mortal like him could handle. Yet, for some reason, it had let him slip away. ¡°That devil you mentioned¡­ I encountered it,¡± Ray admitted, his stomach knotting at the memory. ¡°It almost killed me, but then it just¡­ stopped. Like I wasn¡¯t worth the effort.¡± Alkan¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Because you¡¯re not Awakened. It only targets real threats. To it, you¡¯re barely a nuisance.¡± Ray considered that, his mind drifting back to the desert beasts he¡¯d somehow evaded. ¡°If the labyrinth¡¯s purpose is to find a hero, maybe the real test isn¡¯t just escaping¡ªit¡¯s defeating that Fallen Devil. Proving you can stand against the strongest threats.¡± Alkan let out a harsh laugh. ¡°We tried. There were nearly a dozen of us at one point¡ªAwakened warriors, each strong enough to level small armies outside. We cornered it, or so we thought. It tore through us like we were nothing.¡± A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Silence settled between them, thick with unspoken dread. Ray looked at Alkan, noticing the tightness in his posture. He might have once been a proud king¡ªhe still carried himself with a certain regal confidence¡ªbut years of isolation and failure had etched deep lines of despair into his face. ¡°Earlier,¡± Ray ventured, ¡°you said we should wait for others. But¡­ I don¡¯t think anyone else is coming.¡± Alkan stiffened. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Ray swallowed. This was the part he¡¯d dreaded explaining. ¡°Before I ended up in that temple, I was running through a place you called Oasis City. It was just¡­ ruins. No people. No signs of life. It looked like it had been abandoned for years.¡± Alkan shot him a sharp look. ¡°That can¡¯t be. Oasis City was thriving before I was taken. It was a refuge for those fleeing the outer creatures.¡± Ray hesitated, choosing his words carefully. ¡°All I saw were collapsed buildings, sand filling the streets, everything empty. I even climbed what was left of the city wall, but there was no movement. No smoke from fires. Just silence.¡± Alkan¡¯s hand trembled around the metal shard. ¡°That¡¯s impossible¡­ unless¡­¡± His voice cracked. ¡°Unless the outer horde reached the city, and the guardians lost control. But that would mean¡ª¡± He broke off, struggling to contain a surge of emotion. ¡°¡ªno more arrivals,¡± Ray finished gently. ¡°No one left to send.¡± For a moment, neither man spoke. The labyrinth¡¯s low hum filled the silence, each pulse of the walls a reminder of their prison. Alkan closed his eyes, and Ray saw the weight of seven hopeless years bearing down on him. Anger, sorrow, and disbelief flickered across his face in quick succession. Finally, Alkan opened his eyes, and Ray noticed they were damp. ¡°All those Awakened¡­ all those years. We kept telling ourselves, ¡®Next year, more will come. We¡¯ll have another chance.¡¯ But if the city¡¯s gone¡ªif the guardians are gone¡ªthere¡¯s no one left to continue this trial.¡± Ray nodded, a bitter taste in his mouth. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m afraid of.¡± Alkan rose abruptly, pacing the cramped space. His footsteps echoed against the slick walls. ¡°So it¡¯s just us,¡± he muttered. ¡°Two people in a labyrinth designed for an army of Awakened. With a Fallen Devil stalking the upper floors and no real chance to kill it.¡± He stopped, turning to Ray. ¡°You¡¯re a mortal, untrained. I¡¯m an Awakened who¡¯s failed this trial for seven years. How are we supposed to survive, let alone succeed?¡± Ray shrugged, though his heart pounded. ¡°You said you¡¯ve survived this long. That counts for something. And me¡­ I may be weak, but I¡¯ve slipped past that monster once. Maybe we can use that.¡± A spark of determination flashed in Alkan¡¯s eyes, but it was tinged with desperation. ¡°I once thought I could lead my people to salvation. Now I¡¯m a king of nothing. But I won¡¯t lie down and die here, not after all I¡¯ve seen.¡± Ray drew in a shaky breath. ¡°Then let¡¯s figure this out. Maybe the labyrinth has a weakness. Maybe there¡¯s a hidden path no one else found. If we really are the last¡­ we can¡¯t just give up.¡± Alkan studied Ray¡¯s face, as if seeing him for the first time. The tension in the air crackled. Finally, he spoke, voice quiet but firm. ¡°You¡¯re right. Even if it¡¯s a fool¡¯s hope, it¡¯s all we have left.¡± He grabbed a small satchel from the corner, rummaging through it to reveal a battered scrap of parchment. Unfolding it, he revealed a crude map¡ªcorridors and chambers drawn in charcoal. Some parts were heavily crossed out, others circled with question marks. Ray¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°You¡¯ve been mapping the labyrinth?¡± Alkan nodded. ¡°It¡¯s outdated, since the place changes. But some areas shift less than others. If we can track where it¡¯s stable, maybe we¡¯ll find a pattern.¡± A flicker of optimism sparked in Ray¡¯s chest. ¡°Then let¡¯s start there.¡± Alkan managed a half-smile, though sorrow lingered in his eyes. ¡°We¡¯ll move carefully. One step at a time. Who knows¡ªmaybe the labyrinth wants to be solved.¡± Ray looked around at the dripping walls, the faint luminescence pulsing beneath the surface, and thought of the countless souls who had died here. The labyrinth felt ancient and hungry, yet somehow¡­ hopeful? Was it truly searching for a hero, or was it just another cruel game of the gods? Whatever the truth, they had no choice but to try. Outside, a distant roar echoed through the corridors¡ªdeep and resonant, like thunder trapped in a cave. Ray¡¯s stomach twisted. The Fallen Devil was still out there, prowling. Perhaps it, too, sensed the shifting tides. He glanced at Alkan, who quietly folded up the map, resolve settling over his features. For the first time since waking, Ray felt something akin to camaraderie. They were an unlikely pair¡ªa mortal and a failed king¡ªbut in a place where time and hope had all but died, they had only each other. And maybe that was enough to begin. Chapter 12: Baptism in suffering Chapter 12: Baptism in suffering Ray and Alkan moved towards one of the marked areas on the map. The passage widened, far broader than the usual labyrinth corridors. As they advanced, they arrived at a massive hall, its vast space illuminated by a soft, eerie glow. Radiant fungi clung to the walls and ceiling, their bioluminescent hues casting an otherworldly light. Etched into the stone walls were countless names¡ªhundreds of them. "This place... it''s like a burial ground," Alkan muttered, his voice carrying a somber weight. "We carve the names of the fallen here. A memorial of sorts." Ray¡¯s gaze lingered on the inscriptions, each one representing a life lost in this unforgiving place. Before he could speak, a sharp scraping sound echoed from the far end of the hall¡ªthe unmistakable noise of talons dragging against stone. "Also," Alkan continued, unbothered by the ominous sound, "it''s a training ground. The moss here keeps weaker beasts at bay, or at least makes them reluctant to enter. So, we use it to lure in dormant beasts... or sharpen our skills by dueling each other." Ray eyed the fungal growth spreading across the chamber. "Don''t you think something that repels these creatures might be even worse than them?" Alkan smirked. "Oh, it is. This fungus drains the life of anything that touches it directly. And for the stronger ones who try to consume it¡­ it poisons them." Ray narrowed his eyes. "Then why not use it against that fallen outer?" Alkan sighed. "We tried. It barely affected that thing. And worse, it¡¯s smart¡ªit actively avoids the fungi." "I see¡­" Ray nodded slowly. "But you didn¡¯t bring me here just to show me this, did you? What¡¯s the real reason?" A slow grin spread across Alkan¡¯s face. "Why else? We¡¯re here to train you¡ªto help you tame your soul. Or should I say, to awaken you as a dormant human." Ray¡¯s eyes widened. He could hardly believe what he had just heard. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Before he could respond, Alkan added, "Then again, maybe not. Awakening takes years, even for those with the fortitude to endure it. And we don¡¯t even know if you have that fortitude. But a trained mortal is still better than an untrained one." Ray took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Alkan, explain. What do you mean by awakening? I don¡¯t know how things work here, so tell me." Alkan turned away, walking back towards the exit of the hall. "I only brought you here so you''d know where to rewrite my name if I die," he said casually. "Let¡¯s head back. We¡¯ll talk there." They returned to the small cavern near the water source, where Alkan had earlier prepared some cooked meat. They sat in silence as they ate. Finally, Alkan spoke. "You might not know this since you were a slave, but everything around us¡ªevery stone, every creature, even us¡ªis made of the same fundamental force. Some call it essence. It¡¯s in everything, even our souls. What separates the living from the non-living is that we have souls that generate essence within us. But it¡¯s untamed. Once a human tames this energy and stores it within them, they awaken. That¡¯s what makes us stronger. That¡¯s what grants us our unique aspects¡ªthe traits that reflect our very nature." Ray furrowed his brows. "When you say ''store it,'' do you mean like a core? Something that fills naturally with essence, which then flows through our bodies like blood and fuels the skills we gain through our aspects?" Alkan chuckled. "Exactly. You¡¯re sharper than you look." Ray ignored the jab. "Then have you ever thought¡­ maybe a second awakening is possible? If someone could increase the amount or quality of their essence, they might be able to reach another level. Maybe then you could face that fallen one." Alkan burst into laughter. "Oh, we''ve thought about it. But no one who¡¯s tried has survived it. The pressure of forcing more essence into an already awakened soul is unbearable. Those who attempted it¡­ their bodies couldn¡¯t handle the turbulent flow. They exploded. Brutally. You¡¯ll understand what I mean once you start your awakening process." Ray closed his eyes, digesting everything. It sounded so familiar¡ªjust like the awakening process in the living world, where one had to clear an Outer Trial. But if Alkan was right, then perhaps humanity had a way to increase its survival chances¡­ Still, there was no way to confirm anything yet. Just like Outer creatures, humans were ranked from Level 1 to Level 7: Dormant, Champion, Ascended, Transcended, Celestia, Dev, Holy. Unlike Outer beings, however, humans only possessed a single soul core. Ray opened his eyes. "So what now? We can¡¯t possibly stay here and train like you did outside the trial." Alkan nodded. "True. It takes years to awaken under normal conditions¡ªsometimes even decades. And we don¡¯t have that kind of time. So¡­ we¡¯ll do it the hard way." He locked eyes with Ray, his expression unreadable. "You¡¯re going to wish you were dead. Because this? It¡¯s going to be hell inside hell." Chapter 13: A Strong Body Nurtures a Strong Soul **Chapter 13: A Strong Body Nurtures a Strong Soul** Ray lay sprawled on the cracked earth, his chest rising and falling in heavy, uneven breaths. Sweat drenched his body, seeping into the rough fabric of his once-tattered clothes¡ªnow replaced by light leather armor, molded to his growing frame. His muscles burned, every fiber in his arms and legs trembling from exhaustion. In his hand, he clutched a chokut¨­¡ªits blade chipped and unpolished, its handle nothing more than white bandages wrapped hastily around the tang. The air was thick with dust, disturbed by his relentless training. The wind carried the scent of dried blood, the ground beneath him stained with past battles. He had long since stopped noticing the ache in his limbs, the soreness in his shoulders. This pain had become his companion. "Hey, Alkan," Ray rasped, swallowing down the dryness in his throat. "Are you sure this is the way to awaken? Because all I¡¯ve been doing for the past month is exhausting myself to the point of collapse." Alkan stood a few paces away, his sharp eyes observing Ray with an expression of quiet scrutiny. He remained still, arms crossed over his chest, the barest hint of a smirk playing on his lips. His silhouette, cast long by the dim light of the fungus growing in the large cavern, made him seem like a statue carved from shadow. "As I said," Alkan finally spoke, his voice calm yet unwavering, "a strong body nurtures a strong soul. If your body isn¡¯t capable of withstanding the toll of the final awakening process, then you will shatter before you even begin." Ray exhaled sharply, rolling onto his side before pushing himself up. The dull pain in his ribs flared as he did, a reminder of his grueling training. He wasn''t the same frail figure who had arrived here a month ago. His once skeletal frame had thickened with muscle¡ªstill lean, still too thin, but no longer fragile. Yet, despite the visible progress, his body remained weak compared to true warriors. He was seventeen, but anyone looking at him would have mistaken him for a malnourished child of thirteen. Alkan seemed to read his thoughts. "I¡¯m still surprised that you¡¯re an adult," he mused, tapping a finger against his chin. "I thought you were a kid. Then again, considering how slaves are treated, I suppose it isn¡¯t that surprising." Ray said nothing, merely shaking his head before gripping his sword tighter. It was easier to focus on the task than to dwell on memories best left buried. Alkan¡¯s smirk vanished. "Enough rest. Get up. You still have a hundred more swings to go." Ray groaned but obeyed, adjusting his stance. His arms felt like lead, and his fingers screamed in protest as he raised the blade overhead. Each swing sent a dull ache through his shoulders, but he forced himself to continue. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. "I¡¯ve been doing nothing but swinging this sword thousands of times in the same motion," Ray muttered between gritted teeth. "Even the physical exercises feel more useful than this." Alkan¡¯s eyes darkened, his expression unreadable. "Is that so?" Without another word, a faint shimmer of dust coalesced around Alkan¡¯s palm, condensing into the shape of a straight sword. He moved without warning. One moment he was standing still, the next he was upon Ray, blade flashing toward his neck. Instinct screamed. Ray barely had time to react, his body moving before his mind could process the danger. He stumbled back, his arms raising, his sword swinging downward. The impact sent vibrations through his arms, the force of the clash numbing his fingers. Then, silence. Alkan stepped back, his blade vanishing into the air. A satisfied smile tugged at his lips. "Is this really useless?" Ray blinked, staring at his own hands. His grip on the sword was firm. His stance, despite the exhaustion, was steady. He had reacted purely on instinct¡ªon repetition drilled into his very bones. "You see," Alkan continued, "even if your mind doesn¡¯t know what to do, your body¡ªafter repeating the same motion over and over¡ªwill know what to do in order to survive." Ray exhaled sharply, realization settling in. This training wasn¡¯t just about building strength. It was about survival. Alkan turned away, walking back to his previous spot. "After enough time, your body will be able to fight without you consciously commanding it. That¡¯s what I¡¯m training you for." The past month had taught Ray much¡ªespecially about Alkan. What were once considered miracles in the living world were merely remnants of a far older truth. Before the OUTER curse had descended upon humanity, there had been those who awakened through a method known as taming. It was a brutal process. Strengthen the body to its peak. Then, sense the essence around and within oneself. After that, enter a trance-like state to gather the fragmented essence into a single focal point within the body. It was a river of power, chaotic and unrelenting, but if one succeeded, their body would begin absorbing essence naturally, strengthening with time. "Although I am training you to awaken," Alkan admitted, "in reality, I am only making you strong enough to fight dormant beasts of the lowest level without dying. The actual awakening process? Strengthening your body alone will take at least a year. Even if we take the unconventional route, the accumulation process will still take another two years." Ray let out a bitter laugh. "So, surviving here is even harder than I imagined." Alkan said nothing. He didn¡¯t need to. Aside from learning about awakening, Ray had seen something else¡ªsomething disturbing. Alkan had the ability to summon a weapon like an awakened from the living world. He had called it a boon of the trial, the only mercy granted in this forsaken place. Killing outer creatures sometimes yielded rewards. Weapons, tools¡ªitems of power stored within the soul. The living world called them relics. But what unsettled Ray most was how similar these trial rewards were to the Outer Bond¡¯s mechanics. The implication was clear: this place was an earlier version of the Outer Bond. Or perhaps, it was an echo¡ªan imitation of the past, crafted for his trial. How fitting, Ray thought bitterly. My first trial takes place in the first version of the Outer Bond. He shook his head, clearing his mind. Dwelling on such thoughts wouldn¡¯t help him. What mattered was survival. Gripping his sword once more, he resumed his swings. But this time, he wasn¡¯t just mindlessly following orders. He understood. And that understanding fueled his determination. The path ahead was long. Grueling. Perhaps even impossible. But he would not falter.