The raging lightning struck Eleanor's body without pause, tempering her mind with every passing second. At first the pain was unbearable, but as the bolts continued to crash into her and her mind grew stronger, the agony gradually dulled. Realising that the lightning could no longer knock her unconscious, Eleanor let out a breath of relief.
She continued forward at a slow pace. She knew the method well from the lava lake: advance gradually, stop when the pain became intolerable, wait until she adapted, then move again. Simple in principle.
In reality, the torment she endured was anything but simple. She knew there were no fatalities in the trials… no matter how severe it became, she would not truly die. The worst outcome would be failure.
