The sky above the ruined city had no stars. No moon. No sun. Just a vast emptiness stretching beyond sight, pulsing faintly with a sickly golden glow.
Asher moved carefully through the wreckage of what had once been a civilization. Crumbled towers, shattered statues, and streets overgrown with twisted vines made the city feel ancient, like something that had never belonged to this world.
But the worst part was the silence.
No wind. No insects. No sound of his own footsteps.
Like the city was holding its breath.
The trial's conditions had been clear. Survive for twenty-four hours. Uncover the truth of the lost kingdom. Do not let them see you.
That last rule haunted him.
He had already encountered one of the faceless creatures—a hunter lurking in the ruins, waiting in the shadows. It had tested him, watching how he moved, reacting only when he showed weakness.
And that meant they were intelligent.
Something unnatural flickered at the edges of his vision. His shadow stretched too far along the pavement, twisting in ways that ignored the light. He could feel it now, a second presence beneath his skin, pulsing in rhythm with his heartbeat.
The god's words echoed in his mind.
"You are not like the others."
Something had changed in him when he absorbed the black crystal from the shapeshifter in the labyrinth. His power had evolved into something beyond the gods' understanding.
And if they could not understand it, they could not control it.
That meant he had an advantage.
But it also meant he was becoming something else.
A low whisper brushed against his ear.
Not words. A sensation. A warning.
He stopped moving.
Up ahead, just beyond the broken archway of an old cathedral, something shifted.
A faint clicking noise. Claws dragging against stone. The scrape of movement that was not quite natural.
Asher lowered his stance, his breathing steady. He pressed himself against the wall of a half-collapsed building, waiting, watching.
The thing moved into view.
It was taller than a human, its frame hunched, wrapped in tattered robes that had long since decayed into nothing but hanging threads. Its arms were long, almost reaching the ground, its fingers ending in curved talons.
But it was the face that sent a pulse of something primal through Asher's mind.
It had no eyes.
Just hollow sockets, empty and bottomless, filled with writhing tendrils of darkness. Its mouth was sewn shut with golden thread.
The air around it warped.
Asher did not move.
This was one of the creatures the trial had warned about.
Do not let them see you.
It did not have eyes, yet the rule still applied. Which meant it could see in a way he did not understand.
The creature's head tilted slightly, as if listening.
Then, it spoke.
Not with its mouth. The stitches remained unmoving. The voice came from somewhere else, reverberating inside Asher's skull.
"You do not belong here."
A pulse of energy spread through the air, pressing against his skin.
A detection field.
It was searching for him.
If it found him, it would call the others.
Asher focused, exhaling slowly, steadying his heartbeat. His shadow trembled beneath him, flickering for a moment.
The creature twitched.
Asher felt it.
It had sensed the movement.
For a split second, his thoughts raced. If his shadow was connected to his power, then it was connected to him.
If these creatures could see through unnatural movement—
Then his own power was betraying him.
He did not have time to hesitate.
He silenced the shadow.
It was not a thought. Not a command. It was an instinct.
The darkness beneath his feet froze. The unnatural flickering of the tendrils stopped, solidifying into nothing but an ordinary shadow.
The creature paused.
Then, slowly, it turned away.
It had not found him.
The tension in Asher's body remained, but his mind was clear.
He had just learned something crucial.
The creatures were blind to normal sight. But they could sense things that did not belong. His presence. His power. His shadow.
That was why the rule existed.
Do not let them see you.
It was not about sight.
It was about existence.
The creature moved deeper into the ruins, vanishing into the mist.
Asher exhaled slowly, his grip loosening on his sword.
His power had nearly given him away.
And now, he knew why.
The gods had built this trial to weed out those who relied too much on their awakening gifts. Hunters who could not survive without overwhelming force. This floor was designed to punish those who depended on power alone.
But Asher was not like the others.
He was a soldier before he was a hunter.
He had lived in the shadows before he ever wielded them.
And if the gods thought they could control how he fought, they were wrong.
The whispers in the air shifted again.
He was running out of time.
He moved forward, slipping deeper into the ruins, staying low, staying silent.
Every instinct told him that the truth of this city was waiting at its center.
And if he wanted to survive, if he wanted to understand what he was becoming—
He needed to find it.
Before it found him first.