Kraith did not step into the recovery circle.
He stayed outside.
Silent.
The light from the circle fell across the others—Velkar, Nyxara, Levi.
They were healing.
But he didn't need it.
"Aren't you going in?" Velkar asked.
Kraith didn't turn.
"No need."
One sentence. Final.
He stepped forward.
The space ahead trembled slightly.
Then it shattered.
There was no light.
No transition.
Just change.
When Kraith opened his eyes, he was somewhere else.
A barren land.
Dry. Cracked.
All around him—bodies.
Not one.
Dozens. Hundreds.
Some still warm.
Some long gone cold.
Kraith didn't react.
He looked down at his hands.
Blood.
Not his.
A voice came from behind.
"Get up."
Kraith didn't turn.
He knew that voice.
The man.
No name. No emotion.
"If you stop…"
A kick struck his back.
His body lurched forward.
"…you die."
No anger.
No resistance.
Kraith simply stood up.
"Again."
A creature was released.
Not an Axian. Not a beast.
Something made only to kill.
It lunged.
Fast. No warning.
Kraith didn't dodge.
He couldn't.
The impact was direct.
His bones rattled. His body was thrown back and slammed into the ground.
Blood spilled.
"Get up."
Kraith breathed heavily.
Not from fear.
But because his body wasn't keeping up.
He pushed himself up.
Again.
And again.
Day after day.
No rest. No mistakes. No choice.
Only one thing—
continue.
His body began to change.
Not suddenly.
Not clearly.
Just small details.
His skin grew tougher.
His bones harder to break.
His reactions sharper.
Then came the moment he slipped.
The ground was slick.
His balance broke.
At that exact instant—
something tore through his flesh from the inside.
Blood burst out.
Then small spikes pushed out from the soles of his feet.
They gripped the ground.
Held him in place.
They were not new.
They were not a mutation.
They had always been there.
He just had never needed them before.
The man looked down at him.
"…A defective product."
Not mockery.
Not insult.
Just a conclusion.
Kraith didn't ask.
He didn't need to understand.
He only needed to survive.
One day, he fell.
He didn't get up immediately.
His body refused to move.
Too much blood lost.
The creature approached.
Slow. Certain.
Kraith looked at it.
No fear.
No anger.
Only waiting.
The moment it lunged—
he moved.
Not faster.
Not stronger.
Just more precise.
His kick landed.
Not perfect.
But enough.
The creature's motion broke.
Kraith followed.
No hesitation. No thought.
Only action.
When it ended, he stood there.
Alone.
Breathing heavily.
But still standing.
The man nodded.
"Finally…"
A pause.
"You understand."
Kraith said nothing.
Because he knew—
it wasn't understanding.
It was instinct.
Now—
Kraith opened his eyes.
The arena.
Light. Sound.
Everything returned.
His body had partially recovered.
But his feet—
were still the same.
The spikes remained hidden beneath his skin.
Waiting.
Kraith clenched his foot.
"You alright?" Velkar asked.
"…Yeah."
One word. Enough.
Kraith looked forward.
He didn't think about the past.
He didn't care about dimensional energy.
He didn't need to understand.
He only needed to keep moving.
Because to him—
stopping meant death.
In the distance, Nyxara was watching.
She said nothing.
But she had seen it.
Three people.
Three different paths.
Different—
yet the same in one way.
None of them could go back.
The next trial—
was already waiting.