Alden felt the shift before he opened his eyes. It was like sliding down a slick thread of moonlight—weightless and unsettling all at once. The moment he arrived in the new stage, the blistering heat and blood-red sky vanished, replaced by a silent, almost claustrophobic gloom.
He stood at the mouth of a colossal labyrinth.
Blackened walls rose impossibly high on either side, their surfaces etched with incomprehensible symbols that pulsed faintly, as though each rune had its own heart. An eerie half-light drifted from somewhere overhead, casting long, warped shadows across the ground. There was no clear source of illumination—just a hazy glow that made the air seem alive with half-seen shapes.
Alden's grip tightened around his sword hilt. He glanced warily behind him, finding only the solid stone of the labyrinth's entrance. No path backward. The System had dropped him into yet another impossible domain, but this one felt less like a battlefield and more like a puzzle with a mind of its own.
DING!
Words materialized in his vision:
Trial: Path of the Unbound
Stage Two: The Maze of Ymir's Labyrinth
Objective: Reach the Inner Sanctum
Secondary Objective: Discover the Rune of Clarity
Failure Condition: Permanent Confinement
He swallowed hard at that last line. "Permanent confinement" had a grim ring to it—an endless wandering until he starved, went mad, or simply ceased to exist. A chill settled over him. Surviving the Guardian had been a desperate burst of ingenuity and brute will, but here, it seemed that pure force might not suffice.
He took a cautious step forward. The labyrinth corridor stretched out in two directions, each path identical in shape and shade, each dotted with cryptic markings. At his back, the entrance was already sealing shut, stone slithering into place like a serpent coiling around prey. No turning back, then.
His breathing sounded too loud in the silence. The moment he moved deeper into the corridor, Alden felt a strange quivering beneath his feet—a tremor, almost like a living pulse that synchronized with his own heartbeat. Cold sweat prickled at his neck.
He chose the left path first, feeling a tug in that direction that he couldn't quite explain. The deeper he ventured, the more certain runes glowed in response to his presence. Some turned gold as he passed; others flared crimson. Once, he brushed his fingertips against a rune, and it fizzed under his touch like static electricity before snuffing out. A small System prompt flickered into existence:
Skill Node: Adaptive Will [Lv. 2] → [Lv. 3]
Minor Insight Unlocked
A faint resonance thrummed in his skull. For a heartbeat, he glimpsed a shimmering outline of the labyrinth's corridors, ghostly paths branching in every direction. Then the vision vanished, leaving him breathless. He stared at his hand, heart pounding. The System was responding again, molding itself to his survival instincts—an evolution of that "Adaptive Will" skill that seemed as unpredictable as it was potent.
He pressed on, turning corner after corner, each twist of the corridor identical to the last. Gradually, he lost all sense of time and direction. Every step felt heavier. Something about the labyrinth was sapping at his vitality, gnawing at the edges of his awareness. His eyes began to water from the thick gloom, and at times, he thought he heard soft voices in the distance: a faint, dissonant melody of whispers.
Suddenly, a scuttling sound broke the silence. He froze. Ahead, the corridor curved sharply around a corner. Whatever lurked beyond made a rapid clicking noise, like nails tapping on stone. Alden's heart kicked up a notch. He inched forward, sword raised.
The corridor opened into a small courtyard, illuminated by a faint swirling light in the ceiling. At the center stood a statue—a worn effigy of a robed figure holding a staff. Cracks spiderwebbed across its surface, and from within those cracks pulsed a sickly green glow. At first, Alden saw no sign of the noise-maker…until he noticed motion near the statue's base.
They looked like insects at a glance—each the size of a cat, with spindly legs and glossy carapaces etched in runic lines. There were four of them, skittering in agitated circles around the statue. The moment Alden took a step into the courtyard, those runic lines began to glow. In unison, the creatures snapped their heads in his direction, mandibles clacking a furious warning.
They must be guardians of some lesser puzzle, he thought. Or maybe they're drawn to that green glow.
He knew he couldn't simply turn and flee; these might be a clue—or a test the System expected him to overcome. He tightened his grip, tried to summon the clarity he'd felt in his fight against the colossal beast. But this time, the threat wasn't just brute force; it was multiple foes, quick and chittering.
One of the creatures charged, skittering across the stone with unnerving speed. Alden slashed instinctively, and his blade met chitin with a sparks-flying scrape. The thing shrieked—a high-pitched, nails-on-glass sound—and recoiled. The other three hissed in unison, forming a defensive circle around him, forcing him away from the statue.
DING!
His peripheral vision flashed with new text:
Adaptive Will [Lv. 3]
Trigger: Conflict
Temporary Buff: Hyperfocus
Immediately, the world seemed to sharpen. Every movement of the insects—every twitch of their segmented limbs—felt slowed. Alden didn't hesitate. He darted to the side, using the hyperfocus to weave between two snapping mandibles. The first creature lunged again; he dodged left, brought his sword down. With the creature mid-lunge, the blade sliced clean through the seam between its head and torso. A gout of greenish fluid spattered across the stone.
The second and third creatures converged on him. One sprang at his face, a blur of spined legs. Alden ducked, kicking out and feeling his boot impact its carapace. It flipped backwards, shrieking. The other dashed in from behind—too fast to fully dodge. A razored leg sliced across his arm, and a burst of pain nearly buckled his knees. He gritted his teeth and pivoted, driving his blade through the creature's thorax with a desperate thrust.
He yanked his sword free, breathing hard. Two down. The third was recovering from his kick, and the fourth circled warily, hissing at him. Alden's arm burned, warm blood running between his fingers. This was no child's skirmish. If he failed even once, a single slip could be lethal.
He forced himself to stay steady, ignoring the wet sting of the wound. When the next creature charged, he sidestepped, leading it in circles around the statue. The labyrinth's oppressive energy pricked at his senses, but a determined calm steadied his hands. He carved a wide arc through the first insect's abdomen—then ducked instantly as the fourth creature lunged from behind. Its mandibles snapped shut inches from his neck. Alden's heart hammered. Had he not seen the flicker of movement just then, he would be dead.
With a savage twist, he plunged his sword through its back. A final piercing scream rent the air…and then stillness. Only the hiss of Alden's ragged breathing and the distant hum of the labyrinth remained.