The obsidian halls of Ronova's palace seemed endless. Every shadow, every whisper of the air, reminded Hine that she was under the unyielding gaze of the Ruler of Death. Her small body felt heavier than ever, as though the weight of the first death still lingered, pressing down on her like invisible chains. And yet, even before she could fully comprehend her surroundings, the cold, sharp laughter of Ronova echoed, reverberating through the space and slamming into her like a physical blow.
"You rise, yet you are still so fragile," Ronova said, her voice calm but deadly. "Do you not see that each life will only deepen the pain? Each death is a lesson in your own frailty. You will learn, mortal child, or you will remain forever beneath my shadow."
Before Hine could respond, the darkness around her shifted and tore apart, revealing a vast arena of obsidian tiles that stretched into infinity. Shadows coalesced into forms of monstrous figures, twisting and shifting in ways that made reality itself seem to warp. The first wave of torment began almost instantly. Sharp, jagged blades of darkness materialized from the floor, tearing through the tiles toward her small figure. She barely rolled aside, feeling the sting of near misses against her legs and arms. Her heart raced, and her breath came fast and shallow.
The shard in her hand flared with a warm light, but it was only a faint comfort against the relentless assault. Hine felt herself stumbling, narrowly escaping the first onslaught, only to be met with an even more vicious attack. Shadows rose like tendrils, twisting around her legs, binding her, squeezing with a force that threatened to crush bone and tendon. Panic surged through her, but she forced herself to focus, to pull the shard close and let its warmth flow through her. Her body moved instinctively, dodging, twisting, rolling. Pain was constant, an unyielding companion, but she refused to yield.
Then came the fire. Ronova's laughter sounded again, distant and omnipresent, as flames that burned with unnatural cold and heat erupted from the floor. They formed pillars and walls, closing in on her from all sides. Hine ducked and leaped, narrowly avoiding being trapped in a circle of fire that seemed intent on consuming her entirely. Every movement was instinct, every breath a calculated gamble between survival and defeat. She felt herself being driven to the brink, every sense screaming that death was imminent.
And yet, even as her body was battered and bruised, the shard pulsed steadily. A faint warmth radiated from it, a reminder that Naberius' promise remained. That promise, simple yet infinite, was her anchor. Death might come again and again, but life would follow, and with it, the chance to endure, to rise, to continue. She had already died once, yet she stood now, battered but unbroken.
The second trial arrived without warning. The obsidian floor shattered beneath her feet, plunging her into a cavern filled with spikes of frozen crystal. They glinted with deadly precision, sharp enough to pierce even the sturdiest armor. She landed awkwardly, twisting her ankle, but managed to crawl across the jagged landscape. Pain seared her body, and the shard's light grew brighter, as though urging her to keep moving. She did not allow herself to collapse. Even a brief pause might be fatal.
In the distance, she saw the figure of Ronova, looming like an immovable mountain of darkness. Her presence radiated an oppressive force that twisted the very fabric of reality. The air around her shimmered, bending light and shadow, warping the arena into a place where the laws of nature seemed irrelevant. Hine realized then that this loop would not be a simple repetition of deaths. Each life, each encounter, would be unique, designed to test her endurance and courage in ways she could not anticipate.
And then came the creatures. Shadowed beasts, malformed and grotesque, emerged from the floor and walls, moving with predatory grace. Their eyes burned with a cold intelligence, and they lunged at her with terrifying speed. Hine dodged and parried, barely keeping ahead of their relentless assault. Every strike she delivered was answered with a counter of sharp claws and jagged teeth. Each encounter left bruises and burns across her small frame, yet she continued to fight. She would not allow fear to dominate her. She would survive.
Hours, or perhaps minutes—time itself seemed meaningless in this place—passed in a blur of pain and motion. Hine's body was pushed to its absolute limits. Blood, sweat, and tears mixed as she fought wave after wave of attacks, yet the shard pulsed with warmth and reassurance. Its presence reminded her that death was not the end, that life would follow, and with each rebirth, she would gain the knowledge and experience to endure more.
Finally, despite her efforts, the inevitable came. A beast lunged from the darkness, claws outstretched, striking Hine directly in the chest. Pain exploded through her, sharp and unrelenting, and her vision blurred as the world tilted violently around her. She collapsed onto the floor, gasping for breath, her small body unable to rise. The darkness closed in, heavy and suffocating, and she felt herself slipping, the warmth of the shard fading as the cold touch of death claimed her.
For a moment, nothing existed. There was no pain, no motion, no shard. Only silence. And then, as Naberius had promised, life returned. Hine opened her eyes to the obsidian arena once more. Her body was whole, unbroken, and the shard glowed faintly in her hand. The memory of the attack, of the pain, of the fear, remained with her, etched into her mind like a mark of fire. She shivered, but she rose, determined to continue.
The second trial of the loop began almost immediately. This time, the arena shifted into a vast expanse of jagged cliffs under a storm-dark sky. Lightning arced across the void, illuminating the treacherous terrain. Wind howled like a living entity, threatening to throw her from the cliffs at every step. Hine forced herself to run, leap, and balance, her small body aching from the first death. The shard pulsed with renewed urgency, guiding her steps and illuminating safe paths.
From the storm, shadows emerged again, faster, more numerous than before. They twisted and lunged, attacking without mercy. Hine fought desperately, every movement a combination of instinct and determination. Pain seared through her arms and legs, her breaths came in ragged gasps, yet she refused to falter. Each strike she delivered, each dodge she executed, brought her one step closer to survival, one step closer to enduring the trial that Ronova had set for her.
But the loop was merciless. A misstep sent her tumbling over a cliff edge, and she plummeted into the darkness below. The jagged rocks awaited, and for a moment, she saw the end again. Her vision blurred, her body was battered, and the cold touch of death claimed her once more. The shard pulsed faintly, and she felt herself lifted, drawn back to life by Naberius' promise. She opened her eyes once more, shivering, bruised, but determined.
Each death, each brutal encounter, began to etch itself into her mind, a constant reminder of Ronova's power. Yet, with each rebirth, Hine grew more aware of her own strength. She began to anticipate attacks, to see patterns in the chaos, to push her body in ways she had never imagined. The shard's warmth became her anchor, a source of courage and focus amidst the relentless torment.
Hours, days, or perhaps eternities passed. Hine endured countless deaths, each one unique and more brutal than the last. Shadowed beasts, falling debris, fire and ice, jagged cliffs, and the sheer force of Ronova's presence tested her beyond imagination. Yet, through it all, she rose again, over and over, never yielding, never surrendering. The memory of each death remained, but it became a tool, a guide, shaping her resilience and sharpening her determination.
Finally, after what felt like an uncountable number of trials, Hine stood in the center of the arena once more. Her body was marked with bruises and burns that felt real despite their temporary nature, her mind heavy with the weight of memories from countless deaths. Yet, her gaze was steady, her hands clenched around the shard, and a fierce determination burned in her eyes. She had survived the torment of the loop. She had endured death repeatedly, and she had risen every single time.
The shadows shifted, and for a fleeting moment, Hine felt the presence of Ronova watching her. There was no word, no judgment, only the oppressive awareness that the trials would continue. And yet, Hine no longer felt fear. She understood now that the loop was not merely a curse, but a crucible. Each death, each rebirth, honed her spirit, strengthened her resolve, and prepared her for the challenges yet to come.
Hine took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of the shard and the memory of every life she had lived in the loop. She whispered to herself, her voice steady and unwavering, "I will endure. I will rise. I will survive. And I will find Mavuika."
With that promise etched into her heart, Hine readied herself for the next trial, knowing that the torment of the loop was far from over, but confident that she would meet every challenge with courage, strength, and unwavering determination.