I staggered into the next chamber, every muscle screaming in protest. My breath came in ragged, uneven gasps.
Another simple room, a cold, empty space carved from ancient stone.
At the far end stood a door. Massive, heavy, unmoving, its surface adorned with deep scratches, as if countless hands had clawed at it in desperation.
And just beside it, glinting in the dim light was a keyhole.
I dragged my gaze to the only thing in the room: a pedestal.
An empty pedestal.
I already knew where this was going.
I took a slow, steady breath, trying to push past the exhaustion, past the gnawing anxiety clawing at my mind. Then, my eyes found the inscription carved into the wall beside the door.
"Find the key."
A bitter laugh caught in my throat.
Of course.
I forced my aching legs to move, scanning every inch of the chamber, searching for searching for anything that didn't belong. My fingers traced along the rough stone walls, pressing into every groove, every imperfection.
Nothing.
I crouched, checking the pedestal. Bare.
The floor. Empty.
The ceiling. Smooth, unbroken stone.
I flipped every loose brick, ran my hands over every crack, dug my fingers into the smallest gaps between the stones.
Nothing.
Minutes passed. My breath turned shallow.
Then…
Something cold and metallic pressed against my palm.
I looked down.
The key was in my hand.
What?
I swore I had just checked there.
I didn't waste time questioning it. I rushed to the door, shoved the key into the lock, and as you imagined… it didn't fit.
I turned back toward the pedestal, still empty.
I whirled around, searching frantically. Where had I not checked yet?
My boots.
I yanked one off. Nothing.
I checked the other. Also nothing.
I swore under my breath, feeling my pulse thunder against my skull.
Think. Think.
Then, with growing dread, I checked my first boot again.
My fingers brushed against something cold and sharp.
I pulled out a key.
My stomach twisted.
That wasn't there before.
I rushed back to the door, shoved it in, just for it to vanish in my hands.
I clenched my fists, rage boiling in my blood.
The labyrinth was laughing at me.
I tore through the room again. Every. Single. Inch.
Nothing.
Every damn time.
No matter how fast I searched, no matter where I looked, the key always appeared in the last place I checked.
As if the room was rewriting reality itself, shifting time, bending logic just to keep me running in circles.
My breath came fast and sharp. My fingers twitched at my sides.
I swallowed down my frustration.
Fine.
I turned my back on the pedestal.
I forced myself to stop searching.
I exhaled. I don't care anymore.
And just like that…
The key was finally in my hand.
I lunged for the door, jammed it into the lock, twisted and…
CLICK.
The door swung open, and I stepped through before the labyrinth could change its mind.
****
A thunderous boom rattled my skull as the floor yanked itself from under me. My stomach twisted into knots as I hurtled upward, or rather, downward, slamming into the ceiling with bone-rattling force.
A strangled gasp ripped from my throat. Ahead, other students sprawled across the ceiling, some groaning in pain, others curled up, heaving from the sheer force of the whiplash.
BOOM.
Gravity flipped again.
I barely had time to brace before I was slammed back onto the floor, the impact knocking the wind from my lungs.
I lay there, sucking in jagged, burning breaths, my ribs flaring with every inhale.
I couldn't afford to stop.
Every thirty seconds.
That was the pattern.
I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to focus. If I mistimed even one step, if I leapt too early or too late, I'd hit the next gravity shift at the wrong angle and I'd be crushed.
I pushed up, my limbs shaking, forcing them to move despite the unbearable ache spreading through my bones.
The door loomed ahead, too far yet painfully close.
I had to reach it.
Twenty seconds.
My feet pounded against the floor, my pulse a frenzied drum in my ears.
Fifteen.
I kept my eyes locked forward, watching the hallway stretch and twist, my muscles screaming in defiance.
Ten.
I could feel it, the shift coming.
Five.
The door was right there.
Four.
I had one chance.
Three.
I bent my knees.
Two.
I leapt.
BOOM.
The world flipped mid-air, and for a single, heart-stopping second—
I was weightless.
The exit rushed toward me...no, I rushed toward it, before my body collided through the doorway, rolling onto solid ground, gasping as I landed in a heap.
And then, silence.
For a long, agonizing moment, I lay motionless, sprawled across the cold stone floor.
My chest heaved with ragged, uneven breaths. My body was drowning in sweat, my muscles trembling uncontrollably, my limbs aching from the relentless abuse. My lungs burned, my ribs flared, and every ounce of energy had been wrung from my battered frame.
Somewhere in the distance, a bell tolled, low and resounding, marking the end of the first trial.
Slowly, painfully, I forced my head up.
The air was thick with exhaustion. Around me, other students lay scattered, their bodies just as battered, just as breathless, some barely clinging to consciousness. There weren't many, probably less than half of the original candidates.
Then there were the prodigies.
Untouched. Unbothered. Standing with an effortless grace, as if they hadn't just fought for their lives. The heir of House Astrelis barely looked winded, idly adjusting the cuffs of his pristine uniform. The Crescent Isles girl, who supposedly tamed a sea leviathan at thirteen, stood with her arms crossed. The son of the Grand Magister? He just scoffed, scanning the crowd in bordem.
Meanwhile Sorren Valdris stood at the edge of the group, arms folded, his sharp silver gaze scanning the survivors like a predator taking stock of the weak. Unlike the others, there was no arrogance in his posture, no amusement, just calculated assessment.
His gaze flicked to me for the briefest second, then dismissed me just as fast.
I let out a slow, shaky breath, but before I could process that humiliation,
I saw Elias.
He wasn't standing with the rest of the untouchable elites. Instead, he stood off to the side, relaxed, hands in his pockets, watching the aftermath with mild amusement.
When our gazes met, he smiled mysteriously. As if he had just solved half of a puzzle and was waiting to see how the rest of the pieces would fall into place.
What on earth did he see in me?
Before I could figure it out—
"THERE you are!"
A voice half-wheezed, half-cheered beside me, and I barely had time to react before Finn stumbled into view, looking like he had been through six different disasters and enjoyed none of them.
He dropped onto the ground next to me, hands on his knees, gasping dramatically.
"Man, I was looking for you forever!" he huffed. "You just had to take the worst possible route, huh?"
I groaned, still catching my breath. "What are you talking about?"
Finn let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. "Oh, come on. You really think this was normal?"
I frowned.
Finn leaned in, lowering his voice like he was about to reveal the meaning of life itself.
"You're the only candidate who went through more than seven rooms."
I froze.
"…What?"
"Most people? Five rooms. Maybe six, if they were unlucky." He jerked a thumb toward himself. "I got four, and I still feel like I aged ten years." Then, he gestured at me. "But you? You got eight, and all the worst ones too."
My stomach dropped like a stone into icy water.
I replayed the rooms in my head, the endless hallway, the unbreakable room, the domain expansion of Jogo, the void staircase, the Ashers-that-shouldn't-exist, the floor that tried to eat me, the funny key, the gravity flipping madness, and I realized my luck had been quiet.
Too quiet.
And now I knew why.
It had been saving itself.
For this.
I was about to curse my entire existence when a sharp crackling sound tore through the air.
The ground trembled. Magic rippled across the space.
Professor Zephyr has arrived, his golden eyes sweeping over the survivors.
"Congratulations, you have survived the first trial."
A heavy silence fell over the group.
Some students sagged in relief. Others, the ones who weren't completely naïve, tensed.
Zephyr's gaze sharpened.
"More than half of you failed," he continued, his voice like a glacier given flesh, "Most of them are now in the healing wards."
A ripple of unease spread through the crowd.
I barely had time to process before Zephyr lifted a single hand.
"Now," he said.
"The second trial begins immediately."
The stone walls fractured like glass, breaking apart in shimmering fragments and in its place, a new world unfolded around us.