The mist clung to everything, thick and suffocating, as though the very air sought to smother all that dared to breathe it. Noah's breath caught in his chest with every step, the damp stone and the bitter iron taste lingering in his mouth. It was as if the world itself had grown weary of life, choking on its own silence. And yet, Ryan moved through it with a calm that Noah couldn't quite understand. The faint glow of his palm, swirling with blue wind, seemed almost defiant in this oppressive nothingness. Each breath, each controlled gust from Ryan parted the fog just enough to reveal the faintest outline of a path. The air seemed alive, twisting in silver and gray—a tunnel of smoke, as if it sought escape from something darker.
"His wind ability is really something," Noah thought, trailing behind. But even as he admired Ryan's control, something gnawed at him. What would it be like to awaken? He couldn't help but hope he'd get an ability as useful as Ryan's—something powerful, something that could give him control, give him purpose.
But hope felt fragile here, in this place that seemed to devour it whole.
They walked in silence, the muffled crunch of boots against moss the only sound as they navigated deeper into the mist. The world around them felt hollow, distant. The path curved like a slow breath, leading them onward, but not giving them any sense of where it ended or what lay ahead. The stillness clung to them, pressing down, making the very air seem too thick to inhale. Noah's thoughts turned in circles, trapped by the fog, his eyes scanning for any movement, any sign of life. But there was nothing. Just the weight of the silence, broken only by the creak of old wood that groaned under the weight of time.
And then, like a jagged scar in the fabric of the world, it appeared—a tower.
Noah's heart skipped, the suddenness of it almost knocking the breath from his chest. It loomed like a dark sentinel, ancient and unwavering, its walls like gnarled fingers reaching toward the sky, carved from black stone worn down by centuries of time. It pulsed with a faint shimmer, like something was alive within it, a presence that twisted Noah's insides in a way he couldn't quite place.
"Wait... it's floating?" he whispered, his words lost to the air.
It stood above them, not on the earth, but atop an island suspended over a chasm of mist, a gaping abyss that threatened to swallow everything. A bridge—a thin, fragile thing—stretched across, creaking and moaning with every gust of wind.
Noah took a step back, uncertainty tightening around his chest like a vise. "That doesn't look safe."
Ryan didn't hesitate. His gaze, unwavering, met the bridge's sway, and then he took the first step, his foot pressing down on the rotten wood like he had known it would hold.
"I'll go first," Ryan said, his voice steady, unaffected by the peril.
Noah's fingers tightened around the rope as he stepped onto the bridge, the wood groaning under his weight. With each step, the silence seemed to grow, suffocating, pressing in from all sides. Then, with a violent snap, the plank beneath him cracked. The sound echoed in his bones, and for a heart-stopping moment, the world seemed to pause.
His breath caught, the terror gripping him tight, but he didn't fall. He didn't. The adrenaline hit him like a wave, and his mind went into overdrive, scrambling, and in an instant, he was moving again—forward, toward solid ground. His boots hit the earth with a force that nearly knocked him off his feet, but he was there. He made it.
The others didn't seem impressed.
"Thanks for the help, guys," Noah muttered under his breath, but the words felt hollow, swallowed up by the vast, empty space around them.
The island was silent, an eerie stillness that filled the air like smoke, clinging to their skin, suffocating. They moved cautiously, eyes darting, hearts beating louder with every step, but there was nothing. No beasts, no movement, just the oppressive stillness of it all.
And then, without warning, the tower was there, right in front of them. No gradual approach, no slow reveal. It simply… appeared.
"What the hell?" Noah whispered, his eyes wide, his mind struggling to grasp the impossibility of it.
Ryan, ever composed, just nodded. "It's supposed to do that."
Noah's gaze flicked to him, suspicion curling in his gut. He knew? The words burned, but before he could voice them, they were already swallowed by Ryan's indifference.
"It was too easy," Noah murmured, his voice quieter now, suspicion creeping into his thoughts. "A perfect path. No resistance. No obstacles."
Ryan glanced over his shoulder at Noah, his expression unreadable, but there was a glint of something behind his calm demeanor—something that made Noah's stomach twist. "I expected it," Ryan said simply, his words too smooth, too practiced.
Noah's eyes narrowed. "You expected it? And you didn't tell us?"
Ryan's shrug was nonchalant. "Wanted to be sure it was real."
Noah's lips curled in irritation. "Privileged bastard."
But it wasn't just Ryan who unsettled him. Aeris stood there, as unreadable as ever, her eyes fixed on the tower with a stillness that made Noah's skin crawl. She hadn't spoken since they arrived, hadn't moved, hadn't reacted. What is she thinking? It wasn't just the tower that felt wrong—it was them. It was her.
"So you know how to get out of the Trial?" Noah asked, his voice quieter now, cautious.
Ryan nodded, slow and deliberate. "Yeah. There's a way out. At the center of Anubis. But the geography here keeps shifting. We'll have to find our own way."
"Of course we do," Noah muttered under his breath, frustration creeping in.
They reached the tower's massive door, and Noah's breath hitched. It was like staring into the mouth of something ancient and hungry. Thirty feet tall, carved from black stone, the door loomed like a beast waiting to devour them. Strange symbols glowed faintly across its surface, pulsing with a sickly light.
"Anyone know what this says?" Noah asked, though the question felt foolish even as he spoke it.
Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the symbols began to shift—twisting, rearranging themselves, forming new letters, a readable language.
"Guys…" Noah's voice trailed off, his eyes wide. "You're seeing this, right?"
Everyone nodded, a shared unease settling between them as the symbols continued to morph until they read, in stark clarity:
"Only the brave may enter. Beware the Guardian."
Noah's stomach twisted. The Guardian. That was what they'd been warned about. That was the thing they had to face.
He took a step back, a cold shiver running down his spine. "We should turn around," he said, his voice low, almost a plea.
Ryan stared at the door for a moment longer, then turned, his expression unchanged. "Not all of us need to enter."
With that, he moved forward, pushing against the door with a strength that seemed to challenge the ancient stone itself. It groaned, shuddering on its hinges as cold, stale air rushed out from within. The smell of dust and decay wafted over them, filling Noah's nostrils with the scent of something long forgotten.
Inside, it was pitch black, the faint glow from outside casting shadows that seemed to deepen with every step they took. Aeris entered first, her movements precise, measured. Lucan followed, his eyes hard, his spear gripped tightly in his hands.
Ryan paused, offering a glance back over his shoulder at Noah, his lips curling into a confident grin. "Don't worry. We'll be back soon."
And then, the door slammed shut behind them.
Noah's breath caught. The sound rang in his ears, an echo that reverberated across the island, deep and hollow. And then… silence. The world stood still.
"They'll be fine," Noah whispered to himself, but even as the words left his mouth, they felt like a lie.
A tremor shook the ground beneath him. Just enough to make him stumble, his heart racing. And then… the growl. Deep. Guttural. A sound that seemed to come from the very core of the earth itself.
Noah froze.
"That might be the Guardian," he whispered, his voice tight.
And then the air shimmered—and beasts began to materialize. Dozens of them. And among them, one larger, more menacing than the rest—a Rank 3.
"Fuck," Noah cursed, the words tasting like acid in his mouth. "Why now? I'm not even Awakened yet. How the hell am I supposed to fight?!"
His hand went to his dagger, fingers trembling as he gripped the hilt, but doubt gnawed at him. Am I ready for this?
---
Inside the tower, the hall stretched on forever, an endless maze of shadows and looming statues. The air was thick with dust, and the faintest pulse seemed to reverberate through the stone.
Aeris moved like a shadow, her every step measured, her eyes scanning every inch of the room. Lucan's skin shimmered, his body transforming into metal as he stepped forward, ready for whatever awaited them.
And then, with a groan of stone and a sound like grinding bones, the statues stirred.
Twelve massive golems, their eyes glowing with an eerie light, stepped forward, blocking every exit. The ground shook with their movement.
"Well," Lucan said grimly, his voice low, "I guess we found the first test."
---
Outside, Noah stood at the door, beasts circling around him. His grip on the dagger tightened.
"'Won't take long,' he said," Noah muttered bitterly, his voice low and full of resentment.
"Liar."