Atlas gazed across the river, frustration knotting in his chest as the dark waters churned relentlessly. Every strategy he'd concocted had ended in failure. Whether he tried to estimate a jumping distance with his Aether-enhanced abilities or looked for a safer path along the banks, the answer remained the same: the river stretched on, seemingly endless in both directions. And, lurking beneath him, was the ever-present threat of the massive, Paragon-ranked crocodile, its red eyes barely visible in the fading daylight, waiting this time it moved into the water.
As night fell, the sounds of the jungle around him shifted, growing quieter as nocturnal creatures replaced those of the day. He paced at the branche's edge, ideas racing through his mind as he tried to concoct yet another plan. He couldn't risk crossing it, not with the beast patrolling below. He was considering retreating and coming another time when a strange chill swept over him.
His eyes shot up to the darkened sky, and there it was—a shadow gliding through the night with the quiet grace of a predator. The Nightspire. Its four powerful wings sliced through the air, causing the treetops to sway as it descended lower. It was the same Paragon-ranked creature he and Ivan had barely escaped the night before. Now, it was here, its gleaming eyes catching the moonlight, fixed on the area where Atlas stood.
Atlas froze, a bead of sweat tracing his temple. If the Nightspire had returned, it could only mean one thing: it was searching for prey. He held his breath, hoping it would pass him by. But just as it descended further, circling the river, another massive shadow surged up from beneath the water. The crocodile had sensed an intruder in its domain and had risen to challenge it.
For a heartbeat, the two beasts stared each other down, one in the sky and one at the water's edge, before they collided in an explosion of movement and fury. The Nightspire's talons gleamed like knives as they slashed through the air, striking the crocodile's snout. The crocodile retaliated, swinging its tail and snapping its massive jaws, shaking the earth with its roars. Trees splintered under the force of their blows, and the river churned wildly from the crocodile's thrashing tail.
Seeing his chance, Atlas took a deep breath, slipped down the tree and the bank, easing himself into the icy water. He moved slowly, hoping the splashing of the fighting creatures would mask his presence. His body tensed as the cold seeped into his bones, but he pushed forward, inch by inch, feeling the current tug at him roughly his Aether filled body struggling. He glanced back, catching sight of the beasts locked in their deadly struggle. The crocodile whipped its head, just barely avoiding the Nightspire's talons as they sliced through the air.
He was halfway across when the crocodile, sensing movement below, wrenched itself free from the Nightspire's grasp and turned its burning red eyes straight toward him. Atlas's heart leapt to his throat. In one swift motion, the crocodile lunged forward, abandoning its fight with the Nightspire as it surged through the water, jaws open wide and ready to strike.
And then, as if understanding that Atlas was trying to flee, the Nightspire joined in, wings beating as it dived low to pursue him. The sudden reality of two Paragon-ranked creatures chasing him set his body into a frenzy of motion. Gritting his teeth, he called on every bit of Aether he could muster, warping just as the crocodile's jaws snapped shut in the spot where he'd been. He reappeared two meters away, breathless and struggling to stay above the water.
Without hesitation, he warped again and again, each teleportation taking him another meter closer to the far bank. But with each jump, he could feel his energy waning; the warps drained him of his remaining Aether reserves, and he could barely keep up with the creatures who pursued him. The Nightspire let out a shrill, ear-piercing screech, its talons raking the water's surface as it reached for him, while the crocodile's tail created waves that threatened to pull him under with every stroke.
Exhausted but determined, he continued to warp, barely avoiding the crushing weight of the crocodile's jaws and the deadly talons of the Nightspire. Just as he neared the opposite shore, his warps slowed, and his Aether reserves ran dangerously low. In a final, desperate burst, he warped one last time, collapsing onto the muddy ground on the other side, panting and gasping for air.
Turning around, he watched as the two creatures clashed once more in a frenzy of fury and power, seemingly forgetting him as their instincts drove them to battle each other instead. With a heavy thud, the crocodile's massive tail slammed into the Nightspire, striking it hard across the jaw. A loud crack echoed through the jungle as one of the Nightspire's fangs was dislodged, spiraling through the air and landing just a few feet from where Atlas lay. The fang was small and, sharp as a blade, and pulsing with a faint, otherworldly glow.
Atlas sat up with the last of his energy, drawn to the tooth embedded in a nearby tree. He reached out, his fingers brushing against it, feeling a powerful energy coursing through it—a remnant of the Nightspire's terrifying strength. With a firm grip, he pulled the fang free, marveling at its size and weight. It was sharp, wickedly pointed, and perfectly sized to serve as a dagger. He could feel its potential as a weapon humming beneath his fingertips.
Just then, a familiar voice spoke from the shadows. "The gods have blessed us with a weapon." Ivan's voice was laced with satisfaction, his gaze fixated on the dagger in Atlas's hand.
Atlas turned, catching sight of his mentor stepping out from behind a tree, that ever-present grin stretched across his face. "The gods truly work in mysterious ways, don't they?" Ivan continued, his voice a mix of reverence and amusement. "To survive a river guarded by a Paragon beast and to claim such a weapon… it seems they've chosen you for something grander, my dear vessel."
Atlas couldn't help but stare at the dagger in his hand, realizing how close he'd come to death—and yet, he had emerged not only alive but armed with a weapon. He looked back at Ivan, wondering at the strange providence that seemed to surround this journey.
"It's… it's almost like they wanted this to happen," he murmured, more to himself than to Ivan.
Ivan laughed softly, his voice carrying a hint of awe. "Perhaps they did. The gods are known to test the worthy, to break them down and build them back stronger." He reached out, examining the blade with admiration. "A Paragon-ranked weapon, forged in battle and gifted to you through trial. The Night Spire's fang… only the blessed could receive such a thing."
Atlas ran his fingers along the edge of the tooth-turned-dagger, feeling its sharpness, its lethal promise. He glanced back across the river where the two creatures still clashed, tearing at each other in a brutal display of power and rage.
Ivan took a step back, nodding approvingly. "Come, we must move before they realize you've crossed. The temple is close now, and you'll need that blade soon enough. This place is not done testing you yet."
Another crack formed deep inside Atlas somewhere, as he felt the walls inside his AetherRoom start to form a new set of lines.
{Night Spires's Fang}
Rank - Paragon
Level - 1/2
"Deep within the jungle, two titanic beasts clashed in a battle of primal fury, each blow reverberating through the trees. Amid this violent storm, a lone, insignificant figure dared to intervene, drawing the creatures' attention just long enough to disrupt the mythic flyer. In its momentary distraction, the airborne beast let out a screech, its mighty fang dislodged and lost to the forest below."