Two days had passed since Zane passed the test Instructor Marius had thrown at them under the Master's orders. Now, they were promised a "simple" trial, a chance to prove themselves worthy of the Master's training. Marius had sworn it wouldn't involve fighting or scaling mountains—just a descent down stairs to retrieve a blue crystal orb. Simple, he'd said, but the word felt like a trap to Zane, who stood to the right of Onilia, her steady presence a quiet anchor. Nenis lingered behind them, her shadow close, her silence louder than words.
The trainees scattered across the plain like loose stones, no order, no unity. Some clustered with allies they trusted to watch their backs; others hovered near those they thought they could manipulate.
A chill swept the field, sudden and biting, as Instructor Marius appeared from nowhere, his form materializing like smoke given shape. The trainees froze, the air turning heavy, as if dread itself had settled over them. Marius stood tall, his dark cloak rippling faintly, his face a mask of stone. His gaze lingered on Zane a beat too long, expressionless, before he turned to address the group.
"With everyone here, I'll explain what you're doing and why this trial matters," Marius began, his voice clear and sharp, cutting through the morning mist.
"The Master's training isn't just any regimen. It's a single, refined method—honed from countless techniques, distilled into something lethal and precise. The Master, in his generosity, offers it to anyone bold enough to seek it. But there's a cost." He paused, his hands clasped behind his back, letting the weight of his words sink in. "You'll stake your life to learn it. Trillions have tried—maybe more. Most died. Most gave up. Only five ever reached the top."
Whispers rippled through the crowd, low but urgent. "He's talking about the Master's children, isn't he?" one trainee muttered, his voice barely audible. "The five Zodiacs of the Golden Generation?"
"Yeah," another hissed back, excitement and fear tangled in his tone. "They're monsters. All from the same era, too. Insane."
Marius's voice rose again, silencing the murmurs. "The trial is your glimpse into what awaits. It's your chance to see if you can handle the Master's path. You won't die today, but fail, and you're out—no second chances, no training." His words hung like a blade over the field, sharp and final. The trainees shifted, some straightening, others shrinking, the plain alive with the weight of what was at stake.
Simple, Marius had said. But Zane knew better—nothing with the Master was ever simple.
The weight of the trial pressed down on the group, the strange planet's gravity just heavy enough to make their movements feel deliberate, each step a reminder they were far from home.
Instructor Marius stood before them, his voice carrying over the crowd.
"Your composure will be tested first," he said, his tone cold and precise. "Prove you can stay calm under pressure, that is all for the first test. The second test is combat—duels to determine your ranks.
You'll be assigned numbers based on your performance. The top trainee earns number one. The bottom hundred, after both tests, will be cut—no chance at the Master's training." He paused, letting the stakes sink in, his eyes sweeping the crowd.
"Those who survive both tests will enter the initial stage of the Master's training. Complete all the steps, and you'll earn a vacation to return to your home planets. There, you'll decide if you want to continue. Those who return to continue will be named Zodix—a rank below the Zodiacs, the Master's five children who reached the top. Only the best among you will earn a true Zodiac name."
The trainees shifted, some exchanging glances, others staring at the ground, the word 'Zodix' hanging in the air like a promise and a threat. The plain buzzed with their tension, the wind carrying faint whispers of the Master's legendary children—monsters who'd conquered the training in a single, fabled generation.
Marius clasped his hands behind his back, his voice sharpening. "The first test, as I said, is simple: descend the stairs and retrieve a blue crystal orb. If there are no questions, we'll begin—"
Zane raised his right hand, interrupting Marius. The instructor's eyes narrowed, a flicker of irritation breaking his stone-like composure.
"What is it, Zane?" he asked, his tone clipped, like he'd already decided Zane was trouble. Their few encounters had been enough for Marius to peg him as someone who complicated things.
Zane stepped forward, his eyes locking onto Marius, unflinching despite the instructor's glare. "It's nothing big," he said, his voice calm but edged with a challenge, "but I can't shake the feeling you're holding something back. Is there a hidden catch to this test? Traps? Some deeper purpose you're not telling us? Forgive my rudeness, but I fail to believe it's as plain as you've said." He kept his tone respectful, but his words carried weight, drawing murmurs from the trainees.
A wiry boy nearby shifted nervously, muttering to his friend, "He's got a point. No way it's just stairs and an orb. I don't want some loser stealing the credit if there's more to it."
Marius sighed, his cloak rippling as he crossed his arms, his face a mask of impatience. "It's just as I said," he snapped, his voice cutting through the crowd's whispers. "I have no reason to lie to you. Now, let's begin." His words did little to ease the tension. The trainees exchanged skeptical glances, their postures stiff, ready for a catch. Zane's eyes narrowed, his instincts screaming that something was off, but before he could press further, Marius raised his hands, his voice booming with an incantation that shook the air.
"Left is right, worlds inverted,
Up is down, sight distorted.
I call forth a world where everything is in opposite direction,
All shall be in complete isolation,
Galactic Domain: Fractured Dimension."
The words hit like a shockwave, the alien plain twisting underfoot. The ground flipped, sky and earth trading places in a nauseating lurch. Trainees screamed or gasped, some facing upward, others downward, their bodies suspended in a warped space where left and right bled into each other. Zane found himself upside down, the red-tinted sky now below him, the ground above. Onilia, beside him, was caught in the same disorienting flip, her hair spilling toward the "ground" that was now the sky.
"Zane, be careful," she said, her voice tight, her eyes wide with alarm. "I have a bad feeling about this."
'Unreal. An incantation that warps space for over eight hundred trainees? This kind of power… is this what it takes to be an instructor on Zoic?' Onilia thought, her respect for Marius grudgingly rising.
Zane's mind raced, his heart steady despite the chaos. Onilia's warning echoed in his head, but he couldn't help but marvel at the sheer magnitude of the spell. Only an Apex-ranked Awakener—or higher—could pull off something like this.
Marius clapped his hands, the sound exploding across the plain like thunder, sharp enough to rattle bones. "Good luck," he said, his voice cold but tinged with amusement. The world blinked.
Zane's vision cleared, and he stood before a massive iron gate, its surface pitted and ancient, looming under a sky that was no longer Zoic's. The plain was gone, the trainees vanished, the air now thick with a stale, heavy stillness. He was alone.
'They've split us up,' he realized, his thoughts flicking to Onilia. 'An Apex-ranked Awakener like her can handle herself. I need to focus.' He glanced at the gate, its edges swallowed by darkness, no trace of light spilling through.
"So I'm supposed to go in there?" he muttered, his voice dry. "No thanks. I'll pass."
He turned to walk away, his boots crunching on unseen gravel, but a sudden gust of wind roared behind him, fierce and unyielding. It shoved him forward, toward the gate's gaping maw. "What the hell?" Zane growled, planting his feet, fighting the pull. His muscles strained, his hands clawing at the air, but the wind was relentless, like an invisible hand dragging him in. After a brief struggle, he stumbled through the gate, the iron slamming shut behind him with a deafening clang.
Darkness swallowed him. He spun around, but the gate was gone, as if it had never existed. The air was thick, oppressive, like he'd stepped into a void cut off from the world. No walls, no sky, just endless black. Most would've panicked, their hearts racing in the suffocating dark, but Zane's pulse stayed steady. Fear wasn't in his nature—not for himself. His only worry was Ariel, safe back on Earth, and he'd tear through any trial to get back to her.
A faint light flickered ahead, cutting through the gloom. It revealed a staircase, five meters wide, its stone steps worn and uneven, descending into a blackness so deep it seemed to eat the glow. Zane's eyes narrowed as a timer appeared above his head, green numbers glowing in the dark: '9 years, 6 months, 12 days.' His jaw tightened. "It takes almost ten years?" he muttered, disbelief sharpening his voice. "To go down a staircase? I knew he was hiding something." The timer's meaning was unclear, but it felt like a taunt, a challenge from Marius—or the Master himself.
Zane stood at the staircase's edge, the light casting harsh shadows across his face. The trial had begun, and whatever lay below, he'd face it with the same relentless drive that had carried him this far.