The Cathedral exploded behind him.
Zain didn't look back immediately.
He leapt.
Glass shattered. Marble screamed. The world fractured into falling ruin as his slender, almost feminine frame twisted midair—graceful, weightless, like a dancer mistaking catastrophe for music.
The Dark-Weave mantle flared behind him. His white hair streamed like a banner of pale fire beneath the violet sky.
For a fleeting moment—
He laughed.
Not loudly.
Not sanely.
He landed on a narrow marble railing, his boots barely touching before he rolled forward with [Fragile Grace], absorbing the impact and flowing seamlessly back into motion.
Only then—
He glanced back.
[Flashback: The Joke Was Already Written]
Ten minutes earlier, Zain had already decided how this would end.
Not escape.
Not survival.
Collapse.
As he had wandered through the Cathedral like a broken offering, his [Cold Logic] had not been desperate.
It had been playing.
Four pillars.
Load-bearing.
Obsidian—beautiful, but brittle under thermal stress.
His fingers brushed them as he passed—light, absent, almost accidental.
But beneath that—
Essence flowed.
Precise.
Measured.
Invisible.
With [Temperature Drop], he seeded microscopic fractures with expanding frost, building pressure silently within the structure itself. Not enough to break it.
Not yet.
Just enough to prepare the punchline.
He had almost smiled when the Inquisitor began speaking.
They always talked.
They always gave him time.
[Present]
CRACK—CRACK—BOOM.
This time—
Zain watched.
The Cathedral didn't collapse.
It folded.
Like something embarrassed by its own existence.
Pillars burst from within. The ceiling caved inward, swallowing altar, priest, and faith alike beneath a roaring avalanche of stone and shattered pearl.
Zain tilted his head mid-run.
"…Ah."
A breath.
"I timed that perfectly."
Then—brighter.
"I'm getting better at this."
The Silver City unfolded before him.
A sprawling, impossible masterpiece.
Towering pagodas of hammered silver pierced the bruised sky, their curved roofs reflecting violet light like liquid metal. Bridges of translucent glass arched between structures, glowing faintly with trapped starlight.
The city flowed across rolling hills, white-stone villas clinging to slopes like memories of something softer—something long dead.
And beyond it all—
The Chains of the World.
A jagged ring of obsidian mountains, rising like the teeth of a trapped god.
Beautiful.
Dead.
Zain didn't slow.
He ran.
He vaulted rooftops, slid across polished silver tiles, and launched across impossible gaps with fluid precision. Every movement chained perfectly into the next.
A living equation.
Below, guards flooded the streets.
Above—
Zain danced across their world like gravity had forgotten him.
A spear whistled past his head.
He ducked, spun, caught a hanging chain, and swung forward—boots striking a wall before he flipped onto a higher platform.
"Too slow~"
His voice drifted like a ghost in the wind.
Ahead—
A glass bridge.
Three guards blocked the path.
Zain grinned.
This time—
He didn't slow.
Didn't hesitate.
Because he had already decided how this would go.
He dropped low, sliding beneath the first halberd, fingertips grazing the glass surface.
Essence pulsed.
[Temperature Drop].
The bridge transformed instantly—
A perfect, frictionless mirror.
The guards stepped forward—
And lost everything.
Balance.
Control.
Dignity.
They slipped violently, armored bodies crashing and tangling as momentum betrayed them.
Zain rose behind them.
Watching.
Calculating.
Enjoying.
One step.
A pivot.
A precise strike.
The first guard toppled over the edge.
The others followed—dragged into the abyss by weight, panic, and inevitability.
Their screams vanished into the depths.
[You have slain 3 Awakened Humans.]
[You have received 3 Frost Shards.]
[Total Frost Shards: 18 / 1000]
But this time—
Something more.
A shimmer.
Two separate pulses of light.
[Memory Received: Frostbound Spear][Memory Rank: Awakened]
A weapon born of winter's will. Enhances precision and cold-based abilities.
[Memory Received: Dark-Weave Aegis]
[Memory Rank: Awakened]
A mantle of shadow-thread and silver mesh. Reinforces the fragile body of its wielder, dispersing impact and stabilizing essence flow.
Zain blinked once.
Then smiled wider.
"…Oh."
A quiet laugh slipped out.
"Now that's interesting."
He leaned slightly over the edge, peering into the abyss.
"…I should've asked their names."
He straightened.
And ran.
The city behind him erupted into chaos—bells ringing, voices shouting, something vast shifting in response to his existence.
Zain didn't care.
He vaulted the final rooftop, slid beneath a descending iron gate just before it slammed shut—
And crossed beyond the silver walls.
Silence.
The wind greeted him.
Colder.
Sharper.
Real.
Jagged black crystal formations stretched across the land, rising toward the distant obsidian mountains like frozen screams.
For the first time—
Zain stopped.
His chest rose slightly—not from exhaustion.
But from something deeper.
The Mark of Divinity pulsed within him.
Warm.
Hungry.
Alive.
He turned his head slightly.
Behind him—
The Silver City shimmered beneath the violet sky.
Ahead—
Atop the highest black-crystal hill—
The Castle of the Fallen waited.
Silent.
Watching.
Zain wiped a trace of frost from his lips.
His platinum eyes glowed faintly.
Then—
He smiled.
Wide.
Crooked.
Dangerous.
"Alright…"
A soft laugh escaped him.
"Let's see what kind of monster runs this place—"
The world froze.
The sky fractured like glass.
Light poured through the cracks.
[Trial Complete.]
[First Nightmare Concluded.]
[Evaluation in Progress…]
Zain stood still.
Then—
Slowly—
He laughed.