Chapter 2: The Starting Line
He stood there, trembling with fear, waiting for fate to take its course.
And then—it began.
The massive gate roared to life, an unseen force pulling all 100,000 people inside. Panic erupted like wildfire. He forced himself to his feet, trying to steady his breath, to suppress the rising dread.
Then, a voice echoed through the air:
"The test will begin tomorrow. You have one day to prepare."
Chaos took hold. People scattered in all directions, desperate to find a way to prepare for the unknown trial that lay ahead. Snail was no different. He ran, grabbing strangers, shouting questions—anything to make sense of the situation.
But no one had answers.
He was losing it.
Just as despair threatened to consume him, he noticed someone—a young man, unnaturally calm and composed, standing still amidst the chaos. His black hair was slightly disheveled, but his brown eyes held an unwavering certainty, as if he already knew what to do.
Snail rushed over.
"Hey! I saw you standing there. How are you so calm? We know nothing about this place!"
The boy turned to him, his expression unreadable.
"Because of what the voice said."
Snail frowned. "What do you mean?"
"It told us we have one day to prepare. That suggests we only need one day."
Little did the calm boy know, this test had no regard for fairness.
"So you think the test will be easy?" Snail asked skeptically.
"Yes."
"Hmm... I'll think about that."
Snail turned away, deep in thought. One day to prepare. But that doesn't mean anything. This place has killed thousands before. Fairness doesn't exist here.
As he wandered, his path led him to a fortress. Towering stone walls loomed above him, ancient and imposing. Driven by curiosity—and desperation—he stepped inside.
Deeper in, he discovered two monstrous creatures standing guard before a towering statue. At the base of the statue rested a swirling void—a black sphere of nothingness, pulsing ominously.
The creatures were massive, their forms radiating raw strength. Each one looked powerful enough to tear a man apart with ease—like the combined strength of two bears.
Snail clenched his fists. If I can defeat them, I can get stronger. I can take their weapons.
His eyes flickered to the towering trees flanking the beasts. One tree had nearly been cut down—a remnant of a past battle. If I can bring that tree down, I might be able to kill both monsters at once.
No weapons. No allies. Just his bare hands.
But if he played this right, if he timed it perfectly—he could turn the battlefield to his advantage.
He exhaled, steadying himself.
And then, he moved.
Snail sprinted toward the weakened tree, but the monster guarding the statue spotted him. With terrifying speed, it lunged after him, closing the distance fast.
The second monster saw him too—but it didn't move.
Snail frowned. Why isn't it attacking? His eyes flickered to the pulsing black orb near the statue. What is that thing?
A hundred questions flooded his mind, but there was no time to think. He reached the tree and braced himself, trying to push it over. His muscles strained, veins bulging—but it wasn't enough.
He couldn't do it.
The monster was nearly upon him. Think, think!
At the last second, Snail sidestepped—just as the charging beast slammed into the weakened tree. The impact was perfect. The massive trunk snapped, tilting just enough—
CRASH!
The tree collapsed, crushing the second monster beneath it.
Snail exhaled, a wave of relief washing over him.
"One down... one more to go."
But there was no time to rest.
The remaining monster pushed itself up, shaking off the impact. Snail wasted no time—he lunged forward, grabbing the fallen monster's weapon. With a desperate burst of strength, he swung.
The blade cut clean through the beast's shoulder, severing its arm.
A bloodcurdling scream echoed through the fortress. The creature writhed in pain—until suddenly, it stopped.
Snail's breath hitched.
The monster wasn't crying anymore.
Instead, it was praying.
In a language Snail couldn't understand, the wounded creature chanted, its voice eerie and hollow. The air trembled.
Then—its fallen comrade's body moved.
The corpse convulsed, dark energy seeping from its wounds. The severed limbs melted into a black sludge, crawling toward the surviving beast. Snail watched in horror as the dead and the living fused together—twisting, contorting—until the two became one.
A single, towering giant stood before him, its body an unnatural fusion of muscle, bone, and shadow.
Snail's instincts screamed at him to run.
To be continued...
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