A heavy silence blanketed the group as the fifty children left the dining hall, their bare feet padding softly against the cold stone floors. They moved single-file through the dim corridor, the pale light of crystals casting long shadows on the frost-covered walls. But instead of returning to their cells, something unusual happened. The barriers to their chambers remained deactivated, and the crystals in the walls shimmered with an unsettling intensity.
Seyrin, marked with the number "4," walked at the back of the group. The oppressive weight of his aura kept the others instinctively distanced, though he noticed their nervous glances ahead. A low vibration pulsed through the floor, faint but unmistakable, as though the entire structure was breathing.
Ahead, a spiral staircase emerged with a metallic groan, descending deep into the icy depths of the orphanage. The air grew colder, sharper, with each step. The voice, feminine and calm, resonated in their minds:
"Children, it is time to prove your worth. Descend."
The children obeyed without question. They walked in eerie silence, their breaths forming small clouds in the freezing air as they carefully made their way down the frost-slicked stairs. Seyrin kept his gaze low, observing every movement, every detail, his instincts sharpening with each step.
At the base of the stairs, they arrived before a towering metal door. Frost clung to its surface, and glowing blue runes pulsed faintly, illuminating their pale faces. Fifty children stood motionless, the tension palpable in the icy chamber.
The voice returned, colder this time:
"You will enter the Trial of Eternal Ice. This is a test of intelligence, endurance, and survival. Only those who reach the other side deserve to continue."
The runes brightened, and the massive door groaned open, revealing a vast, circular chamber. A frozen lake stretched across the entire floor, its surface a flawless expanse of shimmering blue. Towering ice pillars dotted the space, reaching toward a ceiling lost in shadow. Stalactites hung ominously above, glinting like deadly blades in the faint light.
"Proceed," the voice commanded. "Show me your worth."
The children hesitated, their fear palpable, before stepping onto the ice. The chill was immediate, biting through their thin uniforms and sinking deep into their bones. Seyrin lingered at the back, his crimson slit pupils scanning the room. The ice wasn't ordinary—he could see faint fractures forming under the hesitant steps of those ahead. Worse still, shadows swirled beneath the surface, moving with a predatory grace.
"This isn't just about balance," he thought, narrowing his eyes. "There's something alive down there."
Suddenly, one of the boys broke into a panicked run, his bare feet skidding on the ice as he tried to dash toward the far side of the chamber.
"No…" Seyrin muttered, his voice barely audible.
The boy's frantic steps triggered the ice. Fissures radiated outward, and with a deafening crack, the surface gave way beneath him. He plunged into the freezing water, his terrified scream echoing through the chamber.
The children froze, their eyes wide as they stared at the hole in the ice. Beneath the surface, dark shapes surged toward the boy—massive fish-like creatures with rows of jagged teeth. They tore into him with merciless efficiency, his thrashing form quickly turning the water red. Blood spread beneath the ice, a horrifying stain that seemed to ripple toward the children.
Some gasped in horror, but no one moved. Seyrin, his expression calm but his pulse racing, took a step forward.
"A warning," he thought grimly. "The ice punishes recklessness."
Moving deliberately, Seyrin placed his foot onto the next section of ice, testing its strength before shifting his weight. He noticed faint pulses of light emanating from the etched runes on the ice, forming a faint, almost imperceptible path. The trick was in observing the rhythm, the subtle patterns that revealed which sections were safe.
Behind him, another child tried to follow his lead, stepping too quickly onto an unstable section. A massive stalactite dislodged from the ceiling, plummeting with a deafening crash. The boy barely had time to scream before the ice beneath him shattered, sending him plunging into the water.
The same monstrous fish surged again, their sharp teeth flashing beneath the surface. The water turned red once more, the boy's cries silenced as his blood clouded the freezing depths.
Seyrin didn't flinch. His gaze remained fixed on the path ahead, his mind calculating every step.
"Move too fast, and you die. Move too slowly, and the cold will finish you," he murmured under his breath.
The children around him began to mimic his movements, following his cautious pace as he navigated the treacherous ice. He could feel their eyes on him, their unspoken hope that his path would lead them to safety.
After what felt like an eternity, Seyrin reached the far side of the chamber. He pressed a hand against the icy wall, the cold biting into his skin, but he barely noticed. He turned to count the survivors. Forty-eight.
Two were gone, their absence marked by the crimson stains beneath the ice. The silence among the remaining children was suffocating.
The voice spoke again, calm and emotionless:
"Congratulations. You have survived. But remember: only the worthy deserve to live."
A door slid open ahead, revealing another dark corridor. Seyrin cast a final glance at the blood-streaked ice, his expression unreadable, before stepping into the shadows, his mind bracing for what was to come.