The air in the grand coliseum of Ashwood Haven Academy crackled with anticipation. Thousands of students filled the stands, their voices merging into a dull roar. The final round of The Abyss Reckoning was about to begin.
At the center of the arena, a floating platform rose high above the battlefield, and standing atop it was none other than Headmistress Helen Remmick. She exuded authority, her violet eyes sweeping over the eager students below. The massive, glowing sigil beneath her feet pulsed with energy, amplifying her voice as she addressed the crowd.
"This is it," Helen's voice rang clear through the arena, immediately silencing the murmurs. "The final trial of The Abyss Reckoning."
The crowd erupted in cheers before she raised a hand for silence.
"This round will test more than just raw power. It will push every participant beyond their limits—strategy, endurance, and teamwork will decide the victors. The battlefield will shift, the rules will evolve, and only those who adapt will prevail."
She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in.
"Survive this, and you will cement your place among the elite. Now, warriors, step forward and face the abyss."
With a flick of her wrist, the ground beneath the arena trembled. Shadows stretched and warped, spiraling into a swirling vortex at the center of the battlefield. The landscape shifted, reshaping into a massive war zone filled with jagged terrain, shifting platforms, and ominous dark mist swirling at the edges. The Abyss had been unleashed.
In the waiting area, I rolled my shoulders, cracking my neck as I took in the battlefield. Ken stood to my right, arms crossed, his sharp eyes scanning every detail. Nicole bounced slightly on her feet, barely containing her excitement.
This was it. The final round.
"Alright," I said, turning toward them. "Here's the plan." I turned to Ken and Nicole, my crimson eyes sharp as I laid out my strategy. "I'll take defense. You two will be on the offensive."
Ken frowned instantly, arms still crossed. "What?"
"You heard me," I said. "I'll hold the line while you and Nicole handle the assault."
Ken scoffed, shaking his head. "That's a dumb plan. We should go all out—press them from the start before they can counter."
"That's exactly why you shouldn't be the one calling the shots."
His eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"
I sighed, already annoyed. "Rushing in headfirst is a great way to get yourself killed. You might have accepted your pseudo-Tenebri side, but you haven't tested it under real pressure. I want to see how you handle it. And Nicole—" I turned to her, ignoring Ken's growing frustration, "—I need to gauge your ability, too."
Nicole, standing between us like a mediator in a war council, blinked in surprise. "You're... testing us?"
"Something like that," I said flatly.
Ken clenched his jaw. "You want us to be bait while you just sit back and watch?"
I smirked. "Not bait. I'm the wall. No one gets past me. You two do your thing without having to worry about getting blindsided."
Ken didn't look convinced. He turned away, rubbing the back of his neck, clearly torn. I knew he understood. He wasn't dumb—he recognized that the plan made sense. He just didn't want to admit it.
Nicole, ever the peacekeeper, stepped closer to him. "Ken, trust me. Liam's strategy is solid. If we keep the pressure up and he holds the defense, we can control the fight."
Ken exhaled sharply, still not looking at me. "...Fine."
I raised an eyebrow. That was easier than expected.
Nicole smiled, clearly relieved.
Ken's gaze flickered to me, his usual confidence still there, but I caught something else in his eyes—annoyance, maybe even reluctant respect.
He agreed with my plan. He just wouldn't say it.
"Alright then," I said, rolling my shoulders. "Let's finish this."
As the countdown for the final round began, I stepped forward, the weight of the coming battle settling over me like a familiar cloak.
The Abyss awaited.
The air in the arena grew tense as Helen's voice echoed across the field.
"The final round of the tournament begins now!"
A deafening roar erupted from the crowd, but I tuned it out, eyes locked on the battlefield ahead. Opposing teams stood ready, their expressions a mix of focus and anticipation. Everyone here had fought tooth and nail to make it this far. No one was going down without a fight.
I inhaled deeply, steadying my pulse. My role was clear—defend, analyze, and control the pace. Nicole and Ken would spearhead the attack.
Ken cracked his knuckles, rolling his shoulders. "We're really doing this, huh?"
Nicole grinned, adjusting the grip on her whip. "Let's make it count."
A massive countdown projection appeared in the sky.
Three…
Shadows curled around my feet, coiling and shifting like restless beasts ready to be unleashed.
Two…
I cast a sideways glance at Ken. His gun was already drawn, his body tense but ready. Nicole flicked her wrist, and her whip uncoiled, slicing through the air with a sharp crack.
One…
A deafening bell rang.
The battlefield exploded into chaos.
Ken was the first to move, vanishing in a blur. He reappeared mid-air, twisting his body as he fired two electrified rounds straight toward the opposing team's formation.
Nicole followed right behind him, snapping her whip toward an enemy's weapon. The moment it wrapped around their arm, she yanked hard, throwing them off balance before spinning and striking another opponent with pinpoint accuracy.
I stood my ground, watching. The moment anyone tried to break past them and reach me—I would make sure they regretted it.
And just like that, the final battle had begun.
As the roar of the academy's arena faded into the distance, the echoes of battle cries and clashing weapons gave way to a far different kind of silence.
In the Shadow Realm, there were no cheering crowds, no blinding lights—only the weight of expectation pressing down like an unseen force. The air itself felt heavy, charged with a quiet anticipation as the Realm braced for a new Sage to rise. The streets were subdued, the usual hum of life drowned out by whispers of uncertainty. Shadows slithered uneasily along the walls, as if even they could sense the shift about to take place.
Deep within the sacred chamber, the stillness was suffocating. Selena's trial loomed, unseen yet undeniable. And as the Academy's tournament reached its climax, so too did the Shadow Realm hold its breath, waiting for fate to unfold.
The King walked ahead, his presence commanding as he led the way through the dimly lit corridor. The elders followed in silence, their expressions grave, their eyes filled with unspoken expectations. Sophia was by her side, offering her a reassuring glance, but even she knew this was something she had to face alone.
The further they walked, the heavier the air became, thick with an unseen force pressing down on them. Then, they reached it—the chamber where the trial would begin.
At the center of the vast, circular room stood an imposing door, unlike any she had ever seen. The door loomed before her—tall, ancient, and pulsing faintly with shadow energy. It wasn't just a door; it was a threshold, one that had been untouched for centuries, waiting for the next Sage to step through. The King stood beside her, his expression unreadable, while the elders and Sophia lingered just behind.
"The rest of us can go no further," the King said. "Only the one who seeks the title of Sage may enter."
Selena exhaled slowly, steadying herself before placing her palm against the cold surface of the door. Shadows coiled around her fingers, slithering like living tendrils before the door groaned open, revealing the chamber beyond.
A rush of air met her as she stepped inside, carrying the scent of damp stone and something ancient, something that smelled like time itself—like dust-covered tomes and whispers left behind by those who walked this path before her. The air was thick, heavy with a presence she couldn't yet define.
The walls were carved from black stone, lined with intricate patterns that pulsed with an eerie silver glow. They seemed to shift, almost as if they were breathing, watching. The floor beneath her feet was smooth obsidian, polished to a mirror sheen, reflecting the dim light that flickered from unseen sources. Every step she took sent the faintest ripple across its surface, like stepping across still water.
The atmosphere pressed down on her, not in a suffocating way, but in a way that demanded reverence. It was as though the room itself was testing her, waiting to see if she was worthy. Shadows clung to the edges of the chamber, whispering at the fringes of her mind, their voices low and unintelligible.
At the center of the room stood a single stone pedestal, worn yet sturdy. It pulsed with a faint glow, the energy of past Sages lingering within its cracks. It was here, she realized, that she would face her trial.
She took another step forward, the door sealing shut behind her with a deep, resounding thud. She was alone now. Alone with the weight of history, the echoes of those who came before her, and the challenge that awaited.
As Selena settled onto the stone pedestal and closed her eyes to meditate, an eerie stillness wrapped around her. The air felt heavier, thick with something unseen. A strange pull tugged at her core, stretching her consciousness beyond its limits.
Then, a cold sensation crawled over her skin.
Her eyes snapped open, and her breath hitched. Her hands—her fingers—were translucent, barely more than a shimmering outline. A jolt of panic shot through her chest. She flexed her fingers, watching in horror as they flickered, shifting between existence and nothingness.
Her stomach twisted.
Slowly, hesitantly, she looked up—and froze.
There, in front of her, was her own body.
It sat motionless on the stone pedestal, head bowed slightly as if still deep in meditation. But she wasn't inside it. She was here, standing apart, watching herself like an outsider.
"No…"
Her voice barely came out, swallowed by the oppressive air of the chamber. Panic surged as she stumbled forward, reaching out—her hands moved to grasp her own shoulders, to shake herself awake—
But they passed right through.
A choked gasp left her lips. She tried again, more frantically this time, but her fingers slipped through like smoke. No matter how much she grasped, how much she willed it—she couldn't touch herself.
Her breathing turned shallow, fear creeping into her bones.
What was happening?
Why couldn't she feel her body?
Terrified and lost, she took a step back, her mind racing with no idea what to do. The walls of the chamber seemed to close in, the darkness pressing against her like unseen hands. The whispers she had ignored before grew louder, circling her like vultures.
She was trapped.
After hours of worry and confusion, Selena had finally managed to calm herself—if only slightly. The initial panic had dulled, replaced by an uneasy acceptance. Maybe this was part of the test. It had to be. If she wanted to become the Sage, she needed to endure whatever this trial threw at her.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to focus, scanning the chamber for any sign, any clue that could guide her. The room was the same—cold, ancient, and unsettlingly still—but then… something changed.
The air grew heavy, thick with an unseen force. A shift in the atmosphere sent a ripple through her translucent form, and a presence stirred behind her.
She turned sharply, her breath catching in her throat.
Before her, the air shimmered and twisted, forming the shape of a man—a familiar one. His long, grey hair flowed like mist, his face lined with age but filled with warmth. His smirk, ever so mischievous, made her chest tighten.
"Henri…"
The name barely left her lips before instinct took over.
Throwing caution aside, she rushed forward, her arms wrapping tightly around him. To her shock, he didn't phase through. He was solid. He was real—at least as real as she was in this form.
Her grip tightened, and for the first time since this nightmare began, she felt safe.
"You have no idea how glad I am to see you," she whispered, burying her face into his chest.
Henri chuckled softly, his arms wrapping around her in a firm yet warm embrace. "Well, if I knew dying would get me a hug like this, I might've kicked the bucket sooner," he joked.
Selena let out a breathy laugh, squeezing him tighter before finally pulling back. She took a good look at him, memorizing every detail—his knowing smirk, the glint of mischief in his eyes, the way he carried himself like he hadn't just materialized from thin air. It felt so real, so normal, yet completely unreal at the same time.
"I… I'm sorry," she said, her voice quieter now. "For how I spoke to you last time. I was angry, and I took it out on you. I shouldn't have."
Henri's expression softened. He reached out and flicked her forehead lightly, the way he used to. "Bah, you think I'd hold that against you? I've been called worse by people I didn't care about. You? You're family, kid. Always have been."
Something in Selena's chest eased, like a weight she hadn't realized she was carrying. She had been bracing herself for some kind of scolding, some reminder of how foolish she'd been—but instead, Henri was just… Henri.
She let out a slow breath, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. "Thank you," she murmured.
Henri grinned. "Don't mention it."
The warmth between them faded as the air around them shifted. The once comforting presence of Henri grew heavier, more imposing. His usual carefree expression darkened, and his eyes sharpened with something unreadable.
"There's plenty of time for us to catch up," he said, his voice steady yet laced with finality. "That is… if you survive."
Selena's body tensed. Any lingering comfort from their reunion was gone in an instant. She straightened her stance, her instincts screaming at her to be ready for whatever came next.
Henri exhaled, his gaze locking onto hers. "Listen closely, kid. The test… is me."
Her breath hitched slightly, but she said nothing. She didn't have to—he wasn't done.
"It's not just about winning," Henri continued. "You don't necessarily have to defeat me, but you must prove you're strong enough to carry the title of Sage. And if you fail…" His voice dropped, the weight of his words pressing down on her. "If you die in this astral form, your physical body dies too. There's no coming back from that."
Selena's hands curled into fists, her mind racing. This wasn't just a test of strength—it was a battle for survival.
As Selena braced herself for Henri's attack, the astral plane trembled, the very air vibrating with power. Shadows twisted violently around them, swallowing the space in an abyss of darkness—
—And then, the scene shattered.
The deafening roar of a crowd erupted in its place. The world snapped back to the academy, where the battlefield stood tense with anticipation. The final round had begun.
The sky overhead churned with restless clouds, as if mirroring the charged atmosphere below. The air crackled, heavy with the presence of warriors ready to carve their names into history.
I stood at the center of it all, my crimson red eyes narrowing as I felt the weight of countless gazes on me. To my side, Ken adjusted his gloves, a quiet storm behind his silver gaze, while Nicole rolled her whip between her fingers, her expression deceptively calm.
The final round was here.
And none of us intended to lose.
**********