The air grew heavier as the tiles began to pulse beneath us, faint threads of shinsu swirling across the grid like veins of light. Varo watched from his podium, unmoving and unreadable, while the tension between the two teams simmered on the brink of boiling over.
Ami Han took her position at the left flank with her usual quiet confidence, her tails flicking lazily behind her. As the designated Rook, she was free to cover long distances—an advantage that played perfectly into her quick and ruthless style. I could count on her to disrupt the enemy formation.
"First move belongs to Black Team," Varo announced, his voice echoing across the ruins. "Play wisely."
I inhaled slowly, calming the tightness in my chest. As the King, I was both the team's anchor and its greatest weakness—if I was captured, the game ended, and we lost. That much responsibility would have been overwhelming for some, but I'd learned to keep my head under pressure.
"Rook, move two tiles left and hold your position," I called, my voice sharp and clear.
Ami glanced back with a smirk, as if to say you're giving me too little credit, before stepping forward. Her movement was graceful but deliberate, the ground humming softly beneath her feet as the grid responded to her.
"Scout," I continued, turning to the cloaked figure crouched at the far end of my team's formation, "find a vantage point two rows up. We need eyes on their Knight."
The scout nodded, shinsu rippling faintly around his form as he darted across the board, landing on a higher platform that had risen seamlessly out of the grid. His shadow merged with the mist curling around the edges of the room—gone, but watching.
From the opposing side, the enemy team began their response. Their Knight, a hulking figure wielding a massive axe, stomped three tiles forward, claiming ground with a brute force approach. I narrowed my eyes, tracking their positions. Predictable. They were trying to pressure us into overextending.
I wouldn't take the bait.
"Knight," I called to the burly gauntlet-wielder on my team, "hold your position, but brace for an attack."
The man grunted in acknowledgment, planting his feet firmly as a faint barrier of shinsu shimmered around his massive arms.
The board pulsed faintly, signaling it was our turn again. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Ami had stopped moving. Instead, she was crouched low, her golden eyes fixed intently on the opposing Knight.
"Ami, don't engage yet," I warned. "We need—"
Too late.
In a single burst of motion, Ami launched herself forward, her scarf unraveling like a living serpent. She crossed three tiles in the blink of an eye, her presence like a dagger stabbing into the enemy's formation. The opposing Knight barely had time to react as her scarf lashed out, wrapping around his axe and wrenching it from his grip.
"Too slow," Ami taunted, her voice ringing out across the board. With a sharp tug, her scarf slammed the axe into the grid, where it sank into a glowing trap tile. The shinsu flared violently, swallowing the weapon in a surge of crackling energy.
The enemy Knight staggered back, momentarily disarmed and off-balance. Ami didn't press the attack, though. Instead, she danced back to her tile with an almost mocking grace, daring anyone to follow her.
Varo's voice rumbled, "The Rook of Black Team has triggered a trap tile. The opposing Knight's weapon has been removed from play."
"Show-off," I muttered under my breath, but I couldn't deny it was an impressive move.
Ami glanced back at me, one brow raised as if to say you're welcome.
The opposing King finally moved. A figure clad in a tattered cloak stepped forward, shinsu swirling ominously at his feet. "Knight, flank their Rook," he ordered, his voice calm but cold.
I tensed. Their disarmed Knight still had enough brute strength to cause trouble, and if he pinned Ami down, it would buy their team time to advance on me.
"Scout, eyes on the enemy King!" I barked. "Find me an opening."
The scout's voice echoed faintly from his vantage point. "The King is holding position near center. It's bait."
Of course it was.
I glanced at the grid, mentally mapping out our options. Ami could hold her own, but I couldn't leave her unsupported—not yet.
"Knight," I called, "move two tiles up and intercept their Knight. Cover the Rook."
Our Knight surged forward, his heavy gauntlets sparking against the stone as he closed the gap. The board pulsed again, responding to his advance.
Before the opposing Knight could engage Ami, something shifted.
A new presence entered the board—a figure stepping lightly onto the far edge of the grid. I froze as I recognized the silhouette.
It was a girl. Slender, with sharp amber eyes and a tattered cloak that whipped lightly in an unseen wind. Her movement was deliberate, almost playful, but her aura was suffocating.
Ami's golden eyes narrowed. "The wildcard…"
Varo's voice rumbled ominously. "The wildcard enters the game. She may move freely and does not answer to either team."
I clenched my fists. A wildcard meant chaos. Whoever this girl was, her sole purpose now was to exploit our weaknesses—playing both sides against each other until only one team remained.
The wildcard's gaze swept across the board before settling on me. Her lips curled into a faint smile, and I felt my chest tighten.
"She's coming for the King," Ami muttered, her voice low and sharp.
The enemy team's formation adjusted instantly, their focus shifting toward the wildcard. The girl tilted her head, as if amused, then vanished in a blur of motion.
I barely registered her reappearance before a sharp crack rang out—one of our Pawns collapsing as the grid beneath him flickered and dimmed.
"Pawn of Black Team: eliminated," Varo declared.
Damn it.
"She's unpredictable," I said through gritted teeth. "We can't let her tear us apart. Ami—"
"I know," Ami snapped, already moving back toward my position. "I'll cover you. Just focus on ending this."
The enemy team was distracted now—trying to fend off the wildcard while maintaining their offense against us. It was the opening I needed.
"Scout!" I called. "Mark their King's exact position."
"Two tiles forward, center column," the scout reported.
I turned to Ami, meeting her gaze. "We're ending this now."
She grinned, her scarf snapping around her like a whip. "About time."
"Rook, sweep the left flank and push them toward center. Knight—press their King from the right. I'll advance with cover."
With practiced precision, my team moved. Ami surged across the board like a blade cutting through smoke, her attacks forcing the enemy into tighter and tighter positions. Their disarmed Knight tried to resist, but our Knight slammed into him, shinsu flaring as the tile beneath them cracked.
I advanced slowly, my chains swirling faintly around my arms, ready to strike. The opposing King turned to flee, but Ami was already there, blocking his path with a savage grin.
"Checkmate," she said softly.
I raised my hand, the shinsu around me converging into a single, devastating strike.
The enemy King faltered as my chains lashed out, locking him in place.
"Black Team: Victory," Varo's voice echoed.
The grid's glow dimmed, the walls of shinsu retracting as the tension in the room finally broke.
I exhaled, my shoulders relaxing as the board faded back into solid stone.
Ami shot me a sidelong look, her smirk returning. "Not bad, King. I almost had to save you."
I rolled my eyes, a faint smile tugging at my lips. "Sure. Let's call it teamwork."
As the remaining contestants filtered off the board, Varo's gaze lingered on me for a moment longer than necessary.
"You played well," the turtle said, his voice low but approving. "But the game is far from over."
The golden door at the far end of the chamber rumbled, the symbols carved across its surface glowing brighter as if responding to our victory. Varo, still perched on his podium, tapped his staff once against the ground, the sound reverberating through the stone like a heartbeat.
"Congratulations, Black Team," he intoned, his deep voice measured. "You've passed the opening phase of the Strategic Gate Test. However…"
The golden door shuddered, splitting into four separate sections that slid apart, revealing a dimly lit corridor. The faint hum of shinsu grew louder, sharper, like unseen tendrils curling through the air.
"…phase two begins now."
I tensed, scanning the room for any sign of what was coming. Ami stood at my side, arms crossed but her eyes sharp as they flicked toward the opening. The other teams were regrouping, their expressions a mix of confusion and dread. Even the wildcard—a girl whose presence had caused chaos—stopped moving, her amber eyes narrowing as she studied the door.
"Phase two?" Ami muttered, a note of annoyance in her voice. "Varo couldn't just let us celebrate?"
Varo ignored the murmur of unrest and continued. "The Strategic Gate is a test of the mind, yes, but it is also a test of leadership and adaptation. In phase two, each team will enter the labyrinth beyond this door. Your objective: locate the Core Gate hidden at the labyrinth's center and unlock it."
The platform beneath us shifted again, forming narrow pathways that guided the teams toward the now-open door.
"However," Varo added, raising a clawed finger, "the labyrinth is alive."
Alive?
Before I could process what that meant, Varo's staff pulsed with energy. The symbols on the walls seemed to ripple, as though the ruins themselves were exhaling. The golden glow expanded like veins of light crawling outward, seeping into the now-open passageways.
"Walls will shift. Routes will collapse. Teams may encounter one another or find themselves separated entirely," Varo continued, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "And the labyrinth does not take kindly to indecision."
The corridor swallowed us whole as soon as we crossed the threshold. Shinsu weighed heavy in the air, the walls on either side of us alive with soft pulsations of golden light. It felt suffocating, as though the labyrinth itself was watching us, waiting to see what we would do next.
"Stick close," I ordered, my voice low but firm. "If we get separated, it'll be near impossible to regroup."
Ami nodded, staying close to my left flank, while the scout—quick and cautious—scanned the ground ahead. The burly Knight brought up the rear, his fists clenched tight, every step echoing ominously off the walls.
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours as we moved deeper into the labyrinth. The path curved unnaturally, some turns folding back on themselves, while others seemed to lead nowhere. Several times, the walls shuddered violently, entire sections collapsing behind us or rearranging before our eyes.
"The labyrinth's shifting the routes," Ami muttered, her voice strained. "It's not random. It's trying to guide us somewhere."
"Or trying to trap us," the Knight growled.
I nodded slowly, analyzing the shifting paths. The shinsu glow wasn't just decorative—it pulsed in patterns, like signals. As we continued forward, I began to notice subtle repetitions. Some pulses were faster, others dimmed at regular intervals.
"It's a code," I realized aloud.
"What?" Ami asked, glancing back.
"The shinsu glow on the walls. It's like a heartbeat—it's marking the real paths versus the false ones," I explained, pointing to a section of the corridor where the light dimmed irregularly. "Those are unstable routes. We need to follow the strongest pulses to the Core Gate."
The scout's eyes widened. "You're sure about this?"
"No," I admitted. "But it's better than wandering aimlessly."
Ami grinned, her trust unwavering. "Sounds good to me. Lead the way, King."
As we followed the patterns of the glowing shinsu, our pace quickened. The labyrinth, however, did not take kindly to our progress. The walls began to groan louder, and the ground trembled beneath us.
From somewhere behind, a low growl echoed.
The Knight turned, his face pale. "What was that?"
The answer came in the form of a monstrous figure barreling around the corner—a massive construct of shinsu, its form a grotesque amalgamation of stone and energy, like a guardian awoken from slumber. Its single eye flared red as it locked onto us.
"It's a hunter," I said, my chest tightening. "The labyrinth really doesn't want us reaching the Core Gate."
"Move!" Ami shouted, her scarf snapping to life.
We broke into a sprint, the construct thundering after us with terrifying speed. I kept my focus on the walls, following the pulsing light as we weaved through the shifting pathways. Every turn felt like a gamble, but the closer we moved toward the labyrinth's center, the louder the hum of shinsu became.
The scout suddenly shouted, "There—straight ahead!"
I followed his gaze to a massive chamber glowing brightly, a circular platform at its center. The Core Gate—a massive stone mechanism etched with symbols—stood waiting, its energy pulsing in rhythm with the labyrinth itself.
"Get to the platform!" I ordered.
We reached the platform just as the construct smashed through the walls behind us, debris raining down. I scanned the Core Gate, spotting four separate panels—each glowing with its own unique sigil.
"It's a puzzle," Ami said quickly, her breath labored. "We need to activate the sigils in the right order."
I turned to the scout. "Mark the symbols you've seen along the way. We need a pattern. Knight, buy us time!"
The Knight roared in response, stepping to the edge of the platform to intercept the construct. Ami joined him, her scarf lashing out to hold the monster back as I and the scout deciphered the sigils.
The labyrinth's hum grew deafening as I called the sequence aloud: "Top left—bottom right—center—top right!"
The scout and I slammed our hands onto the panels in order.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then the Core Gate rumbled, golden light erupting from its center.
The construct froze mid-charge, its red eye dimming as the labyrinth itself seemed to groan in defeat.
Varo's voice echoed, distant but clear. "Well done, King."
The labyrinth's walls began to recede, paths unraveling as the chamber bathed in golden light.
Ami collapsed to sit beside me, breathing hard. "Next time, let's skip the giant death maze."
I smiled faintly. "I'll keep that in mind."