"That's... a strong choice," Kiya said, her voice carrying a hint of respect. "What does it do?"
Arnold shrugged, his posture relaxed despite his intimidating presence. "Makes me tougher. Superhuman strength, durability, that sort of thing. It'll help in this trial, I think."
I nodded, weighing his words. Toughness could be useful, but I wondered how much of that would really matter in a place like this. Still, it was smart—he'd chosen something that would give him an edge physically.
I watched as Arnold's hulking figure loomed over us, the weight of his presence like a gravitational force. He had this quiet confidence that made it clear he wasn't just brawn—there was a sharpness in his eyes, a readiness that told me he wasn't someone to underestimate.
"So," Kiya said, tilting her head as she appraised him, "Divine Body, huh? Sounds... intense. Why'd you choose it?"
Arnold crossed his arms, his biceps straining against his sleeves. "Seemed practical. I figured durability and strength would give me an edge, no matter what kind of trial this is. If I can't outthink the problem, I'll just outlast it."
Pragmatic. I filed that away, my mind already working through how his choice might be useful—or problematic—for me later. Still, he wasn't wrong. In a place like this, where the rules were deliberately vague, brute strength was a safe bet.
"Interesting choice," I said, keeping my tone light. "Though I guess that depends on what the trial throws at us. If it's more mental than physical, it might not be as useful as you think."
Arnold shrugged, his expression unreadable. "Then I'll adapt. Simple as that."
Kiya glanced between us, her curiosity evident. "You're both awfully calm about all this," she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Most people would be panicking or, at the very least, rushing to get a head start. But here you two are, chatting like this is a casual meet-and-greet."
I chuckled, brushing off her observation. "Panicking won't help. The way I see it, staying calm is half the battle. The rest is just... strategy."
Kiya gave me a skeptical look but didn't press the issue. Instead, she turned to Arnold. "So, what did you get for your preliminary round? And what about the questions? I mean, everyone got to ask the figure three things, right?"
Arnold's brows furrowed slightly, and he glanced around before answering, his voice low. "My round was different, probably tailored to test me specifically. I was in a massive arena, fighting wave after wave of creatures. Each one tougher than the last. I had to survive long enough to reach the centre and claim a banner. Took everything I had, but I managed it."
That explained his choice of ability—his preliminary trial had clearly reinforced the need for physical strength and resilience.
"As for the questions," Arnold continued, "the first thing I asked was about my chances. The figure said, 'Your chances depend on your resolve and your ability to adapt.' It's pretty vague, but I took it to mean that flexibility is key." He paused, as if considering whether to share more. "The second question I asked was why we were chosen. It said something about Earth being the closest viable source of candidates and us being the strongest of our kind. The third question... I asked what would happen if I won." His voice lowered, almost a growl. "It told me, 'You would become a god. Everything you've lost can be rebuilt in Cronis.'"
Lost. That word lingered in the air like a shadow. Arnold's expression darkened, and I decided not to push him further on that subject. Instead, I turned to Kiya. "What about you? What was your trial like?"
Kiya leaned against a nearby boulder, her arms crossed. "Mine was... tricky. I woke up in a crumbling city, and I had to figure out how to escape while rescuing as many survivors as I could. Every choice mattered—leave someone behind, and the path would collapse. Save too many, and I'd slow down, risking everyone. It was all about balance and prioritization."
That sounded familiar—her trial tested compassion, quick thinking, and decision-making under pressure. Traits a god might need.
"And your questions?" I asked casually, though my mind was already turning over the possibilities.
Kiya hesitated, then shrugged. "The first thing I asked was what Cronis really is. The figure said it's a world that's breaking apart because it's lost its god. Simple enough, I guess. The second thing I asked was why any of this matters to us—why we should care about saving this world. It said, 'Because the fate of one world is often tied to others in ways you cannot yet see.' That... didn't really answer my question, though." She frowned slightly, then continued. "The last thing I asked was about the other candidates. Whether we'd have to fight them directly. It told me, 'Not all trials are meant to be cooperative.' That's all it said."
Kiya's answers were more revealing than she probably realized. The mention of connections between worlds hinted at stakes beyond what we'd been told, and the cryptic remark about cooperation confirmed my suspicion: alliances were temporary at best. This wasn't a team game.
"Interesting," I said, nodding thoughtfully. "It sounds like each trial is tailored to test specific traits. Balance for you, endurance for Arnold." I gave them a small smile. "And here I thought I was the only one thrown into something ridiculous."
"What about you?" Kiya asked, tilting her head. "What was your trial like?"
I shrugged, keeping my tone casual. "Nothing too crazy. Just had to figure out a puzzle—climb a massive tree and reach the top. It was more about persistence than anything else." I deliberately kept the details vague, offering just enough to satisfy her curiosity without revealing anything that might give her an edge.
Our conversation was cut short as a low hum filled the air. I glanced around, my senses sharpening. The crowd had started to move, splitting into smaller groups and heading toward what appeared to be the maze's entrance. The massive gates loomed in the distance, their intricate designs glowing faintly.
"We should move," Arnold said, his tone decisive. "The trial's about to start."
Kiya and I exchanged a glance, then fell in step with him. As we walked, I kept my eyes open, scanning the area for any details others might have missed. I wasn't going to let anything slip by—not when the stakes were this high.
The three of us might have been walking together, but I knew better than to trust anyone completely. This was a competition, after all. I soon bid the two farewell and continued walking for some time while observing others.
The gates loomed before me, and I couldn't help but feel like I had all the time in the world to think. Some people were already rushing forward, choosing their abilities and bolting into the maze. Others stood there, hesitant. But no one else seemed to be as methodical as me. I was the only one watching, the only one processing. I wasn't in a rush to choose.
I stood still, my gaze drifting to the chaotic scene unfolding around me. Some people were already running into the maze. A few others were manipulating the elements, summoning walls of rock and streams of water that flowed unnaturally from their hands, their gestures commanding the elements with ease. I saw a woman whose hands were surrounded by glowing energy, her power crackling and pulsing. She wasn't just shooting random blasts; she was controlling the energy, shaping it, using it as if she were an extension of the force itself. It wasn't just raw power—it was refined, deliberate.
I glanced at the others again. Some of them were so determined, so sure of their power. The man who had dashed toward the gates with incredible speed had already reached them, ready to leap through. The woman with the flames still hovered near the gate, preparing another strike, her hands crackling with that fiery energy. But I wasn't in any hurry.
I could see their abilities now, even if they couldn't see each other's. And it gave me an advantage—an advantage that most of them didn't realize they had. Everyone was so caught up in their own abilities, their own rush to get through the gates, that they didn't take a step back to look at the bigger picture. They were acting as though the maze was the only challenge, but I suspected there was more to it than that.
As I saw Arnold and Kiya enter the gates, I stood frozen for a moment longer. I wasn't going to choose just yet. Not until I understood the world I was about to enter. I wasn't going to be like the others—rushing, choosing without thinking. I would wait and observe. The trial would show me what I needed, and that's when I would make my move.
The sound of the gates creaking open again broke my trance. I took one last, long look at the maze, the place where everyone had vanished. It stretched out endlessly, a labyrinth of twisting corridors and shifting paths. I still couldn't quite comprehend it, but I knew one thing: I wasn't going to be rushed.
And so, I walked forward into the Maze World, still undecided about my ability, but certain of one thing—I would pick when I was ready, when I understood what would help me the most.