The sun never fully rose in Vanterra. It lingered low on the horizon, casting a bronze glow through the dense canopy above, and painting everything in haunting shades of orange and crimson. The world seemed permanently caught in the moment just before dusk—beautiful, but eerie. Aiden followed closely behind Lys as they navigated a winding trail, the silence between them taut and uncomfortable.
She hadn't said much since they left the battlefield.
Aiden didn't blame her.
He had killed someone. Not in self-defense. Not in hesitation. No, he had chosen to end a life. He could still feel the warmth of the sword hilt in his palm, the way his arms had tensed with the swing, the sickening resistance as the blade cut into flesh. And the worst part? He didn't regret it.
That frightened him more than anything.
"You should clean that," Lys said, breaking the silence. She motioned to the dried blood splattered across his cheek. Her voice was flat, but her eyes briefly flicked to his face with something between caution and curiosity.
Aiden wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt, smearing the blood but not quite removing it.
"Do you… feel different?" he asked, not looking at her.
She paused for a second, then nodded. "The first time you kill in Vanterra, something inside you changes. It's not like your world, Aiden. Here, your soul learns to fight… or it dies."
They walked in silence for another stretch. The trees grew thicker, the trail narrower, and the air heavier. Occasionally, Aiden could hear whispers—faint, almost musical—echoing through the forest. At first, he thought it was his imagination. But Lys didn't seem surprised.
"What is that sound?" he finally asked.
"The woods are alive," she said. "This entire region is cursed. It's known as the Hollowing Vale. The spirits of the fallen don't rest here. They… echo."
Aiden swallowed hard. "And we're going toward it?"
Lys smirked faintly. "That's where the safehouse is. Don't worry. They won't hurt you unless you disrespect the dead."
Aiden wasn't entirely sure what counted as "disrespect" in Vanterra, but he kept his mouth shut and his hands to himself.
After what felt like hours, the trees gave way to a small clearing. In the center stood a circular stone structure, half-collapsed, covered in moss and ivy. It looked like a forgotten ruin from a fantasy novel, except Aiden could feel something pulsing beneath his feet. Magic.
"This is the Sanctum?" he asked.
Lys nodded. "One of them. There are dozens scattered across the realm. The Sanctums are places where the System's influence is weaker—safe zones. No monsters, no enemies, no corruption."
Aiden stepped cautiously into the ruins. As soon as he crossed the threshold, he felt the pressure in the air lighten. It was like a weight had been lifted off his chest.
Inside, the space was simple—some stone benches, a dry fountain in the center, and ancient runes etched into the walls. A fire pit had been built in one corner, still warm with faint embers.
"We'll rest here for the night," Lys said, pulling off her cloak and tossing it onto a bench. "You'll need your strength tomorrow."
"For what?" he asked, already dreading the answer.
"For your Trial."
His heart skipped. "Trial?"
She nodded. "You were marked by the System. That means you're no longer bound by the same rules as the rest of us. But it also means the world will test you. The Trial of Ascension isn't just a rite of passage—it's a purge. Either you survive it… or you die."
Aiden sat down heavily, the weight of everything crushing into him all at once.
He had survived his first fight. Learned that magic was real. Killed a man. And now he had to prove himself again or be erased.
Lys tossed him a flask of water and a piece of dried meat. He took them without a word, chewing slowly, trying to still his racing mind.
"How long have you been here?" he asked, after a while.
She stared into the fire. "Two years."
"Before that?"
"I don't talk about before."
Fair enough. He didn't want to talk about before either.
The two of them sat in silence, the only sound the crackling of the fire and the distant hum of magic thrumming through the stones. It was oddly peaceful, despite everything.
But peace, in Vanterra, never lasted.
At midnight, Aiden awoke with a start. The runes on the walls were glowing a deep red, and the air buzzed with static.
"It's time," Lys said, already on her feet, sword at her side.
Aiden rose slowly, every instinct in his body screaming at him to run.
From the center of the ruin, a circle of light appeared, swirling with crimson and gold. Glyphs spun in the air, forming a portal of raw energy.
"The Trial will test your body, your mind, and your will," Lys said. "You'll be alone in there. Whatever you face—it will be drawn from you. Your fear. Your pain. Your doubt."
He looked at the portal, then back at her. "Will I see you again?"
"If you survive."
With a deep breath, Aiden stepped into the portal.
The world around him shattered.
—---
He fell through darkness.
Not a void, but a shifting realm of memories, screams, and fire. Visions of his past flickered through the shadows—his childhood, his mother crying, the day his father left, being shoved into lockers, ignored, forgotten.
Then, silence.
He stood in a familiar place—his dorm room.
Everything looked normal. His laptop was still open. The textbook on his desk. The poster of Sword Requiem above his bed.
But something was wrong.
His roommate was sitting on the bed, staring at him. Except… it wasn't his roommate. The face was wrong. Blurry. Like static.
"Aiden," it said. Its voice was glitching. Distorted.
"You don't belong here."
The lights flickered.
"Aiden, you're nothing."
The figure stood, and its face shifted into that of his father. Then his high school bully. Then the man he killed. Then… himself.
"You were always weak," the thing hissed. "Even here, you'll die. You'll never be enough."
It lunged at him.
Aiden barely managed to dodge, the blade forming in his hand on instinct. It clashed against the figure's dark sword, the impact sending him sprawling.
The room began to melt, the walls turning to ash, the floor splitting into endless chasms.
"You want to be strong?" the thing snarled, shifting forms with every step. "Then prove it."
The fight was chaos. Aiden couldn't predict its movements—it knew all his fears, all his weaknesses. Every time he tried to strike, the figure changed into someone else from his past. It hurt more than the blows.
But something inside him—something deeper—began to stir.
A memory.
Not of weakness. But of strength.
Of the moment he chose to stay.
Of the promise he made: I'll become strong. I'll become something more.
He stood, bloodied and battered, and roared.
The mark on his chest blazed with light, and energy erupted from within him. His sword shifted, becoming darker, sharper, alive. His eyes gleamed with golden flame.
"You're not real," he said, voice shaking. "You're just doubt."
The figure faltered.
Aiden struck—one clean, brutal slash—and the nightmare shattered.
He collapsed to his knees, panting, surrounded by light.
The world shifted again.
This time, he was in a temple.
Ancient. Towering. The Trial was over.
A System message appeared before him in glowing letters:
[TRIAL COMPLETE]
Name: Aiden KuroRank: Initiate AscendantReward: Skill Unlock – ShadowstepReward: Trait Unlock – Will of FlameTitle Acquired: The First Chosen
Aiden stared at the message, heart pounding.
The portal opened behind him, and he stepped through.
Lys was waiting.
When she saw him, her eyes widened ever so slightly. "You survived."
He nodded, still breathing heavily. "Barely."
She smirked. "Then you're ready for what comes next."
"What's that?"
She turned, her cloak fluttering in the wind. "War."
Aiden's muscles ached, his body was drenched in sweat, but there was a fire in his chest. He couldn't explain it, but something had changed within him after the Trial. The weight of his past, the doubts, the fear—it all seemed distant, a shadow of what it once was. He didn't fully understand it yet, but the power that had surged through him during the Trial wasn't just physical. It felt... primal.
Lys didn't waste time.
"You'll need to learn how to harness that power," she said, as they began walking from the ruined Sanctum. Her voice had a sharp edge to it now. "The world is vast, Aiden. And it's filled with threats—some of which are worse than anything you've seen so far."
Aiden nodded, still processing everything that had just happened. He had won—barely—but that didn't feel like a victory. It felt more like a warning.
"What do I do now?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady despite the swirling thoughts in his mind.
Lys glanced over at him, her eyes dark and calculating. "You train. You fight. And you prepare for what's coming."
"Prepare for what?"
She stopped and turned to face him, her expression hardening. "The Ascendant Trials are only the beginning. The System is a force, and it has its eyes on you now. But so do many others."
"Others? Who?"
Lys paused, her gaze flicking over the horizon, as though watching for something unseen. "People who have already ascended. There are factions in Vanterra—old bloodlines, powerful figures, all seeking the power the System grants. Some of them will try to manipulate you. Others will seek to kill you. And then there are those... who want to make you their tool."
Aiden shivered at the thought. He had barely survived his first Trial. How was he supposed to deal with these people?
"I'm not ready for that," he muttered.
"You'll never be 'ready.' That's the point." Lys's tone softened, but only slightly. "But you have something others don't—potential. The System chose you, Aiden. And that means you have a chance to shape this world."
She turned away, her boots crunching against the dry earth. "Your journey isn't just about power. It's about control. You need to learn who you are in this world. Who you're going to become."
"Who am I supposed to be?" Aiden asked, the question slipping out before he could stop it.
Lys stopped, her back still to him. "You're still figuring that out. Just like everyone else. But remember, Aiden. The moment you stop questioning is the moment you fall."
With that, she started walking again, the conversation clearly over.
Aiden followed, his mind racing with all the new information. The Ascendant Trials. The other factions. The pressure mounting inside him.
Soon, the path narrowed, and the landscape shifted once again. The forests that had once towered over them gave way to a desolate, rocky expanse. The ground was cracked and dry, the air thick with dust. In the distance, a small fortress stood atop a cliff, its walls jagged and sharp, like the teeth of some ancient beast.
"That's the Red Keep," Lys said, breaking his train of thought. "It's one of the last strongholds of the Ascended. They keep to themselves, mostly, but they'll know you've completed your Trial. You're marked now, Aiden. They'll be watching you."
Aiden didn't know what to make of that. "What do they want with me?"
"They'll want to know what you're capable of. They'll want to test you. And if you pass their tests, they'll offer you something—power, allies, knowledge." Lys glanced at him, her eyes sharp. "But be careful. Not everything comes for free."
They continued toward the Red Keep in silence, the weight of what was to come pressing on Aiden's chest.
When they arrived, the fortress loomed over them, casting long shadows in the dying light of the day. Its gates were enormous, made of black iron that seemed to absorb the light, and the walls were etched with strange runes. A group of armed guards stood outside, their eyes cold and watchful. They didn't move as Lys approached, but one of them stepped forward when they got close.
"State your business," the guard said, his voice rough.
Lys didn't hesitate. "We're here to see the Lord of the Keep."
The guard's eyes narrowed. "The Lord doesn't see anyone without an invitation."
"I'm the one who killed a dozen of his men two months ago. Do you think he'll turn me away?" Lys's voice was calm, but there was an edge of danger in her tone.
The guard blinked, clearly taken aback. "Wait here," he muttered, turning on his heel and disappearing inside.
Aiden couldn't help but feel a surge of curiosity. He didn't understand what the deal was with Lys, but she seemed to have a certain presence about her—one that made people take notice.
They didn't have to wait long. The guard returned, his posture stiff and respectful.
"The Lord will see you now."
Lys gave Aiden a small, knowing smile as she gestured for him to follow. They walked through the gates, entering the fortress.
Inside, the Red Keep was a mix of grandeur and decay. The walls were lined with old tapestries, their vibrant colors fading with age. A long, winding staircase led upward to a massive hall, where a figure stood waiting.
He was tall, with a chiseled face and dark, piercing eyes that seemed to look straight through Aiden. His long cloak was red and gold, the colors of a ruling bloodline, and his aura was powerful—too powerful.
"Lys. It's been a while." His voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it.
Lys didn't flinch. "Lord Tyran. I've come to introduce my... protégé."
The man's gaze shifted to Aiden. He studied him, from head to toe, before a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.
"So this is the new Ascendant. The one who survived the Trial." Lord Tyran's voice was laced with amusement. "Tell me, boy. How did you survive?"
Aiden clenched his fists, trying to steady his breath. The pressure of the man's gaze was almost unbearable.
"I did what I had to do," Aiden said, his voice low but firm.
Lord Tyran chuckled. "Good answer. But it won't be enough. Not here. Not in Vanterra."
The room seemed to darken as Tyran's smile faded. "Lys has vouched for you. But in the end, your worth is determined by your strength. And here, strength is the only currency that matters."
Aiden's heart pounded in his chest. This man—this Lord—was a predator, and Aiden was nothing more than prey in his eyes.
Lord Tyran stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Prove yourself, boy. Fight for your place. Or I'll have you crushed beneath my heel."
The words were a threat, but they were also an invitation. An invitation Aiden had no choice but to accept.
He would prove himself. He had to.