The flames had only just died, but the tension in the air was hotter than ever.
The sacred platform—once smooth and serene—was now a scarred field of cracked energy tiles, floating debris, and scorched sky. Time itself seemed to ripple, the realms' borders thinned by the eruption of unchecked powers. Obinna stood in the heart of it all, his breath ragged, shirt torn, and the embers of his fury slowly fading into ash.
But the battle had not yet ended. Not for all.
The Iron-Earth champion rose again, body chiseled from rock, molten cracks glowing with fury. Across from him, the Whispering-Wind archer circled above, leaping from air-step to air-step, notching an arrow so thin it looked like a thread of lightning. The Mirror-Water girl conjured veils of steam that spiraled like snakes, obscuring her form while her reflections attacked in unison.
Obinna's flame had forced a momentary pause, but now the champions, each from rival realms, began unleashing their might — not at random, but with purpose. This wasn't a mindless brawl anymore. It had evolved into a brutal dance of dominion.
The Iron-Earth warrior slammed his fists into the ground, sending seismic waves outward. The tiles beneath them rose like jagged teeth. One pierced through the illusions of the Mirror-Water girl, but her real self flipped away just in time, casting crescent-shaped blades of condensed mist in retaliation.
Above, the Whispering-Wind archer let loose a volley of sonic arrows. Each blast rang with deafening force, splintering the terrain and throwing all within range off balance. One struck Obinna's shoulder, grazing him. Pain bloomed instantly. These were not warning shots. These were kill shots.
The Beast-Blood champion, a half-leopard man, pounced from the sidelines, claws bared. He slammed into the Iron-Earth brute mid-charge, sending them both rolling across the platform in a flurry of claws and crumbling rock. Roars and grunts echoed as they fought tooth and hammer.
Obinna dodged to the side, flames twisting around his legs for speed. He could feel it — the magic of the platform itself was unstable now. One misstep, and he'd fall into the sea of molten void below.
Then came the break.
A new challenger stepped forward — uninvited. The cloaked figure, the Reaper's shade, entered the fray.
Obinna's vision dimmed the moment it did. Shadows curled unnaturally, warping time and sound. The arena fell silent save for a heartbeat—his own. He turned, and there it was.
Not flesh. Not mist. Something in-between.
The Reaper's shade moved without touching the ground. It glided between fighters, untouched by their attacks, yet somehow erasing their magic as it passed.
The Iron-Earth warrior charged it.
A mistake.
The moment his hammer swung down, the Reaper's shade raised a single finger. The hammer stopped—midair—frozen in time. The warrior gasped, eyes wide, before being thrown backward by an invisible force, crashing into the platform's edge.
Panic erupted. Even the Mirror-Water girl's illusions flickered with fear. The Beast-Blood champion snarled, but stepped back.
Obinna was left standing in front of the shade.
He didn't move.
Neither did the shade.
They stared, and in that moment, the fire inside Obinna surged again. He summoned it not to attack—but to shield. A dome of flame flared around him, daring the Reaper's shade to try.
But the shade only laughed — no sound, just a pressure in the air — and vanished into smoke.
Silence returned.
Then, the Council flared into view.
Elders from the Nine Realms appeared via realm-flames, each seated in spirals of energy.
A tall woman cloaked in veils of starlight stepped forward. Her voice echoed across the space.
"Champions. What you experienced... was the Trial of Intent."
Shock registered across all faces.
"This was no mere test of strength," she continued. "We needed to know what moves your soul. What shakes your resolve. What you protect... and what you would destroy."
She turned to Obinna.
"Fireboy. You did not lash out. You chose restraint."
She turned to the others.
"Earthman, you held your ground. Archer, you aimed true. Mirror, you adapted. Beast-Blood... your instincts ruled you, but they did not betray you."
A golden scroll appeared between them, pulsing with divine energy.
"Five have passed. Four have failed. The Reaper watched, and approved."
Obinna clenched his fists. Approved? By what right? He wasn't here for approval. He was here for vengeance. For answers. For war.
Nine beams of light descended — not with warmth, but purpose. Each touched a champion, marking them with runes that sank into their skin. A pain that felt like burning purpose.
The veiled elder bowed.
"From this point forward, you are no longer candidates. You are champions. And champions... do not get second chances."
The scene dissolved. The council chamber folded away, and Obinna found himself alone in a marble room lined with relics and weapons.
He didn't move for a long time.
His shoulder throbbed. His heart pounded.
But deep down, he smiled.
He was in.
---
MINI DICTIONARY
Energy Tiles – The structured, semi-ethereal material used to form sacred arenas between realms.
Sonic Arrows – Arrows infused with compressed air magic that detonate on contact.
Realm-Flames – Communication channels through divine fire used by Realm Elders.
Reaper's Shade – A projected phantom of the Reaper, used to test candidates' composure and resolve.
Marking Runes – Spirit-branding symbols given to champions to indicate divine acknowledgment and trial survival.