The heat hit me first.
Not like the forge halls, where warmth rolled through the stone in steady waves. The Red Crucible's heat was wild—violent, unpredictable, slashing the air with razor-thin distortions that Pulse Sense caught only a heartbeat before they passed.
The corridor leading into it was narrow, carved from reddish-black stone that pulsed with ember veins. With every step, the pressure changed—air thickening, thinning, twisting. My claws dug deeper into the ground out of instinct.
Behind me, the Hunter Captain remained at the threshold.
It didn't step inside.
It bowed its head once.
A gesture of finality.
The trial was mine alone.
I walked forward into the heat.
The moment I crossed the boundary, the world shifted. Gravity felt heavier for a breath, then lighter. The air rippled like thick fabric being pulled tight. A metallic vibration rolled through the chamber—low, steady, like the stone remembering its original form.
Then I saw it.
The Crucible.
A vast arena of cracked obsidian plates floating at uneven heights. Some low to the ground, others suspended in midair like broken platforms. Fissures cut through the arena floor, filled with molten light. Heat bled upward, thick as smoke. The ceiling was lost somewhere far above, hidden by the shimmering haze.
There was no single source of heat.
The entire chamber generated it, shifting, boiling, twisting.
My Pulse Sense faltered, pulsing outward only to return warped.
Not in a threatening way—
Just unreliable.
A challenge.
Good.
The stone beneath my feet trembled. A chunk of obsidian drifted upward, floating until it clicked into position with other platforms. A path formed—irregular, uneven, dangerous.
The Crucible was assembling itself.
I stepped forward.
Immediately, the nearest fissure flared, launching a jet of molten heat upward. My body moved without thought, Blink snapping me aside just as the blast tore past where I stood, melting a floating platform into liquid shards.
The heat wave washed over me and—
Nothing.
My armor drank it in like warmth instead of fire.
A small satisfaction stirred in my chest.
Tier 3 had changed me.
But the Crucible felt like it wanted more.
A scraping rumble echoed through the chamber. The platforms shifted again—higher, lower, rotating slightly, forming uneven steps that led deeper toward a central island surrounded by a moat of molten essence.
On that island, something moved.
A creature rose from the molten pool, dripping glowing liquid from its shoulders.
Massive.
Hunched.
Body of cracked stone stitched with red lines pulsing like veins.
A Smolderback Ravager.
Heat distorted the air around it, bending light. Its claws were long, sharp, its jaw glowing with molten residue.
It stared at me with empty sockets brimming with red light.
It bellowed.
The sound was a pressure wave—not noise but force—blasting across the chamber.
I stepped sideways, claws anchoring into stone as the wave blew past.
The Ravager lunged.
It didn't jump so much as erupt, body propelled by a burst of thermal pressure that cracked the floor beneath it. I Blinked onto a higher platform, heat scalding the edges.
The Ravager hit the platform where I'd been.
The stone vaporized.
It looked up at me, molten drool dripping.
Then it leapt again—straight toward me.
I didn't Blink away this time.
I dropped.
Gravity pulled me down between platforms as its claws ripped through the space above me. Heat boiled the air. I twisted mid-fall, claws burying into a lower chunk of obsidian as I flipped under its trajectory.
The Ravager landed on another floating slab.
The slab shattered entirely under its weight.
The beast fell—
Caught itself—
Then launched upward again using a molten explosion from its back.
My claws slid into the stone as I kicked off, Blink snapping me sideways onto a narrow shard balanced between two molten cracks.
The Ravager was fast.
Too fast.
Heat had boosted its mobility.
It slammed into my platform, claws grazing my shoulder. The shadow-armor sizzled, but held.
I slashed.
Claws carved through molten hide.
A spray of fiery droplets scattered across the air.
The Ravager screeched, stumbling back.
But the Crucible reacted.
Pressure changed.
Heat spiked behind me—
A fissure erupted.
I turned too late.
The blast struck me full-force.
My armor thickened instinctively, shadows condensing around my torso, absorbing as much as they could. Even so, the impact hurled me across platforms. I slammed into a slab of obsidian, cracking it down the center.
My ribs burned.
Not pain—heat overload in the armor.
My vision flickered for a moment.
The Ravager didn't give me a second chance.
It was already mid-air, claws raised.
This time, something inside me reacted before thought did.
My entire frame narrowed—
Bones tightening, limbs compacting—
Armor reshaping in a single motion.
Adaptive Morph: Stage 2.
The Ravager's claws scraped over me instead of into me, sliding across compressed armor as I ducked underneath, shadows shifting to make space for the attack.
My vision sharpened instantly.
Pressure changes in the air became clear.
Temperature spikes mapped themselves instinctively.
Reflexes overloaded with instinctive predictions—
The Ravager twisted right—
Heat buildup left shoulder—
Aim was shifting—
I moved before the attack formed.
Reaver Step fired off, not backward but through the heat pocket beside the Ravager. Blink stabilized perfectly, no distortion.
I reappeared behind it.
Claws extended longer—blade-like—sharper from Morph Stage 2.
I slashed across its spine.
A deep gash split open.
Molten essence sprayed out, splattering across the platforms and hardening instantly.
The Ravager howled, spinning with fury, jaw snapping toward me.
I compressed again, folding lower than my normal stance should allow. Its jaw snapped over me, teeth clashing.
My tail split at the tip into dual blades—another reflexive morph—and lashed upward.
Both blades sank into the Ravager's jawline.
It recoiled, thrashing—
A blast of molten essence erupted from its back.
Too sudden.
Too powerful.
I leapt backward—
But the explosion caught me mid-air, blasting me onto another platform. I rolled once, armor steaming, shadows thickening instinctively to counter the heat.
The Ravager's body glowed now—cracks pulsing faster.
It was entering its heat rampage.
The chamber reacted as well—
Platforms shifting closer—
Fissures widening—
Heat turning chaotic—
A trial designed to overwhelm.
The Ravager charged again, faster and more reckless.
Each step cratered stone.
I Blinked upward—
It followed—
I shot sideways—
It burst into a new arc, heat propelling it mid-air—
I landed on a narrow platform, claws gripping the edge.
The Ravager launched toward me—
I didn't dodge.
I jumped toward it.
Halfway across the gap, I shifted form—
Arms lengthening, claws curving, armor hardening—
My body became a single sharpened line.
A spear of shadow.
I collided with the Ravager's chest with the full force of adaptive morph and Blink momentum fused into one.
The impact split the molten beast open.
It roared—cracking down the center—then collapsed into the molten fissure below, dissolving into glowing fragments that drifted and sank like dying embers.
Silence settled for one long moment.
No—not silence.
Pressure.
Approval.
The Crucible recognized the kill.
Stone platforms shifted again, forming a path toward the central island.
A faint vibration traveled up my claws.
Not a warning.
A summons.
Something else was waiting deeper inside the Crucible.
Something the Ravager was only the guardian for.
I stepped forward, armor still steaming, Adaptive Morph still active in small twitches along my limbs.
As the molten moat around the island parted, revealing a narrow crossing of obsidian—
Pulse Sense caught another shape.
Tall.
Still.
Mask carved with blade-like sigils.
Not a beast.
A Shadeborn.
The Blade-Sigil Warrior.
Watching.
Waiting.
Judging.
I stepped forward.
The island trembled in anticipation.
And the Warrior raised its blade.