The path opened like an ancient wound.
A spiral of floating stone, glowing sigils, and drifting embers extended downward into a vast abyss that pulsed with a heartbeat not belonging to any beast or god. It felt like the pulse of a world that had been sealed away, forgotten by the heavens, yet still alive enough to resent the silence forced upon it.
Cled stood at the edge, his cloak fluttering as a wind with no source scraped along the walls of the abyss. The Guide—the young girl with violet-lit eyes—waited three steps ahead of him, trembling slightly despite trying to hide it. Her hands clutched the edges of her robe, and faint fluctuations ran through her aura like ripples of fear.
"Stay close," she said quietly, her voice carrying an echo that made it seem older than she looked. "The Rings watch. And they remember the scent of power."
Cled stepped forward.
The world reacted.
Crimson-white energy flickered around him, and the stones under his boots hummed, adjusting to support his presence. As they began their descent, the spiral pathway shifted, lowering itself like a colossal stairway obeying an unseen command.
The abyss around them expanded.
Darkness parted.
Light gathered.
And an entire hidden realm revealed itself beneath the Vault.
The Outer Rings.
Layered worlds—one beneath another, each rotating slowly like the gears of a cosmic mechanism. Some rings glowed with gentle forests and floating rivers; others burned with molten stone and crimson storms. Others still were barren deserts or ruined cities swallowed by vines thicker than towers. The Rings were not connected by geography—they were connected by purpose.
"What is this place?" Cled asked.
"A boundary," the girl replied. "A prison. A sanctuary. It depends on who you ask."
She guided him down the spiral. As they stepped onto the first Ring surface, the sky above them folded shut, sealing the path they had descended.
Cled glanced upward. He felt the closure—not a trap, but a test. A challenge. A controlled isolation meant to measure him.
"You're not the first to enter the Outer Rings," the girl said softly. "But you are the first to walk in with the King's acknowledgment."
Cled raised an eyebrow. "Is that good or bad?"
"That depends on whether you succeed."
She led him through a forest where trees glowed with faint silver veins running through their bark. Their leaves whispered as though each one carried a voice, murmuring secrets or warnings in languages older than mortal history. Cled's steps left a faint trail of light behind him, and he noticed the forest shift in response—branches leaning slightly nearer, roots subtly parting to clear his path.
"They recognize you," the girl said without turning. "The Echo has touched these woods before."
Cled looked around with sharpened senses. "They're alive."
"Everything here is," she said. "But not everything is friendly."
The forest darkened abruptly. The ground trembled. A low growl rippled through the air, vibrating from all directions.
The Guide froze.
Cled didn't.
He lifted a hand behind him, gently pulling her closer without touching. "Stay behind me."
Shadow gathered ahead, forming a mass of swirling tendrils that braided together until a form emerged: a massive beast made of fractured stone, its eyes glowing with the same violet light as the Guide's.
Its first roar cracked the trees.
Its second roar shattered the silence.
The beast lunged forward.
Cled met it with a calm expression.
The world did not.
Everything shook as the beast slammed down where he had been standing, but he had already moved, his body blurring with the crimson-white energy coursing through him. He appeared above the beast, descending with a palm strike.
Boom!
The ground cratered. Stone splinters exploded outward like shrapnel. The beast recoiled, its form cracking—only to reform instantly as the fragments pulled themselves back into place.
"It regenerates indefinitely," the Guide warned. "It can't be killed. Only—"
Cled interrupted, his eyes narrowing on the creature's movements. "—redirected. Guided. Or turned."
He stepped forward as the beast charged again, its body expanding in size as if feeding on the forest's energy.
Cled's aura flared.
The sky shifted.
He raised a single hand, fingers glowing with crimson rings that spiraled around his wrist like orbiting stars. The beast's charge slowed—then stopped completely, its front paw hanging mid-air as if caught by an invisible force.
The Guide's eyes widened. "You're… controlling it?"
"No," Cled replied softly.
He guided his energy through the air like a sculptor carving clay.
"I'm communicating."
The beast's form trembled. Its glowing eyes flickered, dimming and brightening in pulses. Its body lowered slowly, the aggression bleeding out like evaporating mist.
Moments later, it bowed.
The forest sighed in relief.
The Guide could only stare.
"You… tamed a Fractured Guardian. Those beasts only obey the Ring Keepers."
"They obey intent," Cled said. "Not titles."
The beast shimmered, its body dissolving into a stream of violet light that wrapped around Cled before flowing into the forest.
The Guide regained her breath. "You're different. Even the King walks the Rings cautiously. But you…"
Cled began walking forward.
His voice was calm. "Tell me about the other Rings."
She hurried after him. "There are thirteen in total. Each tests a different aspect of existence—strength, wisdom, memory, intent, soul, balance—"
"Which Ring are we on now?"
"The first," she replied, lowering her voice. "The Ring of Recognition."
Cled nodded. "Then it's done. What's next?"
She hesitated. "The second Ring is more dangerous."
"I'm listening."
"It is called the Ring of Reflections," she said, her violet eyes tightening. "It forces you to confront versions of yourself—past, future, or possible. Many who enter never return."
Cled continued walking. His expression did not change.
"Why?"
"They lose to themselves."
The world around them shifted again as they reached the edge of the first Ring. A circular platform floated in a chasm of swirling light. When the Guide stepped onto it, the platform glowed.
"Stand here," she said.
Cled stepped beside her.
The platform rose, spiraling upward into a tunnel of mirrored fragments. His reflection surrounded him—hundreds of Cleds looking back, each with slight differences. One with darker eyes. One with scars. One older. One colder.
"The Ring awakens," the Guide whispered. "Do not lose your sense of self."
The platform halted.
Mirrors cracked.
Light flickered.
And reflections stepped out of the glass.
Not one.
Not two.
Dozens.
One smirked. "You think you understand direction?"
Another cracked his knuckles. "You think you've grown strong?"
A third whispered coldly, "You don't even know the truth of your birth."
The Guide backed away. "This is where most fail."
Cled's expression sharpened just a degree—calm, wise, unshaken.
"I don't need to defeat all of you," he said.
The reflections surged forward.
"I only need to defeat the one that claims it's me."
His aura ignited.
And the battle began.