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    His ragged gasp tore at the air, bitter dread cutting through Kaius’s fugue and the pounding of his heart. The phantoms were still there. The light, boiling his blood as it cut through his flesh like a scalpel.


    The swirling.

    His bones seperating; falling to pieces. The slow, encroaching darkness that swallowed him whole.

    Kaius doubled over, his eyes still scrunched shut as a wracking shudder rolled through him. He held on to his legs, keeping himself anchored — and reassuring himself they were still attached.

    He’d died. Again.

    This time had been far far worse. There was no fugue; no shield of exhaustion to blunt and dampen the memory, the feeling of having his soul gutter and fail. The cold.

    His eyes stayed closed as his head pounded. How? How was he alive — again? Had he finished the trial?

    There was no way. There had been no weight — he hadn’t even come close to the end! All it would take is a look, and he would know. Yet he could feel the phantom blade on his neck — the atavistic terror that simmered in the very depths of his heart.


    Death. Ending. The final event.

    It wasn’t something to be experienced twice, let alone a third time — his soul cowered before the wrongness of it all. He should be gone.

    Kaius took a shaky breath, martialling his nerve. He had to check — it would be a foul showing to act so weak in front of Xenanra.

    Fighting against the instinct within him, Kaius looked around. He found grey stone blocks, a small bed, a simple kitchen, a desk, and a large parchment pinned to a wooden board.

    The entrance room. He froze — struggling to comprehend the truth of what lay right in front of him.

    He was still here. How?!

    Everything within him screamed that it was impossible. An illusion, a mind trap — something. Yet, the experience had left undeniable marks on him — the primacy of that final moment, the guttering of the flame, the death of self stretching into a moment into an aeon. He felt it with his very soul — how could that be faked?

    Ascendancy, weaving forces beyond mortal ken with an ease and understanding he couldn’t grasp.

    But why? What was this place? Why resurrect him and teleport him to the start upon failure?

    **Ding! You have challenged the Trial of Obstinance!**

    **Meld with the wisdom of Mentis, and prove your ability through sharpness of mind, staunchness of memory, and conviction.**

    **Reach the end of the Way of Struggle. Be warned, cowardice has no place on the Path — to forfeit is to accept True Death!**

    Kaius jolted, staring at the words that hung in his vision. The notification of the trial starting.

    They blinked away, and out of the corner of his eye he saw a flicker from the parchment that was pinned to the war. He snapped to it, wide eyed.

    How many hours had he watched it, waiting for the drawing to return? And now, exactly like the first time, it appeared after a notification that shouldn’t exist?


    The description of the trial — in his experience, the system only provided notifications like that once. Sure, you could pull them back up to review at your leisure, but they didn’t repeat.

    Yet it had, as had the appearance of the ink on the parchment.

    Had he been resurrected? Revived and teleported back to the start of the course? Or was it reversion?

    Kaius shook his head, gasping fast and shallowly. That was ridiculous — he wasn’t an expert in esoteric magic, but even he knew causality couldn’t be broken. It was one of the few constants, one of the rules. For the ascendant to do that…it would have to break the laws of the System.

    Wouldn’t it?

    Yet as much as he wanted to refute it, the evidence stared him right in the face. The elusive nature of the trial, and how it would help him understand The Veteran’s Edge on a deeper level — how a course of randomised and unpredictable obstacles could possibly assist with his seed of memory, learning, and planning.

    The title of the trial. Obstinance. He would admit that the word fit him — matched up with how he tended to approach problems, and learn from his experiences. Yet…when he considered it with the dark nature of forfeiture, he felt a chill go down his spine.


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