“The image that was drawn showed a building, with a crumbled machine on the inside, but this thing seems to be—“ Arson continued to walk around the large machine in front of him.

Huge circles of various sizes spun within one another from large to small. Each ring seemed to be made of a different substance, all the compounds foreign to Arson. While additionally each section moved in a different direction, but all were centered around the same point.

“What is that thing?” Arson stared at the vibrant light blue and green energies that twisted at the machine's core. Each of the halos held a different light, but he counted eleven sections in total. All the various metals or materials pulsing with a different color. All deep and rich in their own vibrancy.

“I don’t know what this thing is but man does it feel good each time that light hits me,” said Arson to himself. He contemplated sitting down, and after a while did exactly that.

He watched the flows of each ring, how the speed of one seemed to cause the movement of the rings closer to itself to either pick up momentum and velocity, or slow it down.

After he managed to memorize the structure he felt reminded him of what images of a sun were often depicted to look like, he couldn’t help but smirk, knowing that he could come back and look upon the strange object that filled him with warmth and inspiration. His eyes filled more and more with star-like energy with every moment that passed.

“Well, what’s next, maybe I should try the place that looked like a bunch of staircases that led up to a single point, whatever the item at the top was seemed pretty cool,” said Arson. He made his way to his feet, turned around, and started to run back the way he came, now full of more mana than he’d originally ever had.

The distortion field tried to take hold a second time. Yet Arson didn’t have to close his eyes again.

The miles traveled blurred by as he pushed out of the formation's range and once more found himself amongst the many buildings held on the orphanage's lands.

He stopped, crouched, sitting on his heels momentarily. He combed through his mind on nearby landmarks that had been pointed out by the drawn maps. The images filled his mind so powerfully that as he swept his eyes from left to right over the scenery, he felt he could see the maps overlain atop each place he needed to visit. Each location now filling him with either a slight buzz or a rush or flood of weight on his mind that normally indicated difficulty.

“Hmm, so maybe not the staircases, but what about the place with all the vines and rocks?” He looked toward an area that had once been a vast amount of buildings maintained by the Keeper to own the land prior to Almarine. The sight now retaken by the land. The once tall structures toppled and consumed by a network of sandstone moss, a weed like root that was notorious for its ability to consume metals, stone, or any other mineral a cultivator could imagine. With the exception of sandstone, which is where it received its name initially.

“Doesn’t seem too bad.” The energy that came from the area he inspected from a distance, didn’t seem harmful, but after falling from that multi colored tree so many times, Arson started to approach each task differently.

Some were more dangerous simply because what needed to be accomplished seemed simple by appearances, only to be deadly. Recognizing that a large amount of danger being spread out, was still a large amount of danger, wasn’t yet a concept that Arson’s mind had grasped.

The immediate threat of danger like what he’d felt to find a large floating orb of light, had so far been without equal, but Arson wanted to feel as nothing he faced could overwhelm him. The sensation of heart pumping dread while high up, hadn’t diminished even though he spent the majority of his time on rooftops he managed to climb up to, but other aspects of the orphanage grounds had began to amaze rather than scare him.

An idea struck Arson, and instead of rushing into the maze of collapsed buildings being eaten slowly by vines. He faced his fear and climbed an empty apartment building to gain a vantage point, in an attempt to witness what he could be faced with if he decided to enter.

He never looked down while climbing. His head had swum the one time he did, so he made it a rule not to, only looking toward his goal.

The climb wasn’t difficult due to the fire escape, his largest hurdle being the initial gap between the ground and the first set of stairs that hung 20 feet from the ground.

This had taken both a well placed abandoned trashcan, and a poorly executed wall run that left him without an object to use to make his jump down easier. Arson sighed to himself as he had dangled over the toppled metal bin.

“Figure it out when you face it Arson. Move on, you are doing this for a reason.

The now nearly four season cycle old looked out toward his target destination from on top of the apartment, and was chocked for the third time that day.

How big the mana crystals got within the lake, he hadn’t even seen matched inside the precinct lockup. The strange orb that emitted different colored lights that made him feel as if he could fly just by looking at it was so beautiful he wanted to return already, and now…

“Those walls are moving.” A maze of shifting stone and vines restructured itself in constant motion within the nearby block. Four streets housing a miniature labyrinth with an empty field of sand at its center from what Arson could see, stayed in perpetual motion, making a small sandstorm at the center that made seeing the field properly impossible.

“I wonder if I could just... use those edges over there, to get up there, and…” He formulated a plan that he believed would work, then remembered what it felt like to struggle for air as he kicked through the waters of the lake that same morning and formed a secondary plan, and then an additional backup to his backup plan.

“Just don’t slip and you will be fine,” said Arson.

Remembering how he’d gotten up, he checked the door to the rooftop access and grinned when he found it to be unlocked. He made his way down through the apartment building slowly, fighting the want to run through the abandoned area no longer lit or connected to the mana system for available utilities. This left every corner of the building dark and unwelcoming. So though he didn’t run in a rush to exit, he didn’t even take the time to look around for even a blink.

“I really should check more doors in the orphanage, who knows what I may find,” Arson asked himself while he closed the door of the apartment building. His perception of everything was different. Nothing to Arson was without a mystery or unseen depth to be explored.

“Now let's see if this place is as interesting as it seems.”

…

Almarine and Arson started to swap places constantly. Arson would scale the orphanage to find a new target, only for Almarine to visit his previous choice to measure how successful he’d been.

The young man had no Overlay to determine a grade or level of completion. So Almarine couldn’t ask him what the Uni-Vare believed him to have achieved, but knowing the trials having had completed most if not all on her own, she found herself able to assess how skillfully each challenge was being finished by Arson.

Not for the first time, nor was it what she knew would be the last time, Almarine found herself with the need to want to intercede on Arson’s behalf.

“Why, why there, there are so many other options, and you want to roam where my son left his toys?” Almarine paced. The sight of Arson climbing onto a massive boulder made her heart race.

Should I stop him…?

It was Arson’s next actions that stopped Almarine from interacting with him in any way that could distract him. While he stood memorizing the movements of the walls from the small labyrinth that Almarine knew could result in Arson being sent through random gaps in space and time, the orphan mother paced.

Arson was the type to rush in, and Almarine knew that. A tendency was born in that moment that Almarine wished every one of her disciples previously had acquired early.

She witnessed every moment. From his rush up the side of the exterior bolder, one of the many pieces that formed the exterior wall. To his forceful stop, after his instinct to run in flared, indicated by the shifts in muscle groups Almarine correlated to a jump.

“Good, but what is your plan once you touch down on the ground floor? Once there, the puzzle will change based on how you move through it,” contemplated Almarine from her perch. She was truly interested, and then forced to smile.

Arson took a runners stance, a familiar position she’d seen Khalif take before he tried to jump as far as his body could carry him. With a short distance sprint and leap, Arson landed on top one of the many walls in motion. The momentum of his jump allowed him to speed across the length of the first wall, but he was forced to slow by the immediate jerk of the second.

Almarine had assumed he would fall there, but his ability to balance was stellar, and she wondered how much he’d watched Khalif to grow to this level of agility and stealth. Each step evenly placed with an accompanied push forward let Arson ease through the second wall before it changed direction.

“A third of the way on top isn’t bad, but...” Almarine cut herself off. Arson’s muscles flexed once more in a very familiar way, while the pirouette he performed to the left that resulted in a shaky landing, made her heart skip a beat.

"Bloody hellion, what are you trying to achieve here? Will you even be able to remember where you are once you...” said Almarine stopping herself a second time.

"You're trying to enter the sandstorm from the top, you don’t even know what’s inside child,” started Almarine, until a wall jerked hard and sent Arson careening into the shifting and chaotic maze.

Almarine gasped, and had to force down the urge to run in Arson’s direction. The boy seemed to be unaffected by gravity, though he fell backward and upside down toward an incoming wall, his eyes remained open, aware, and focused.

Arson’s back hit the wall and to her amazement he rolled with the momentum of his descent. The continual movements of the walls only gave Arson enough space to place a single foot on the ground below, while his opposing leg pushed him back into the air.

Another wall rushed directly toward him, and instead of impacting the wall face first he extended a leg toward the wall. Another upward step taken as Arson turned and kicked down as much as he could resulted in him colliding bodily with one of the many walls that surrounded the sandstorm and plains below.

Caught by the midsection Arson flipped end over end into the storm of sand and out of sight completely.

“Bloody sparks, Arson!”

…

Arson landed face first into the ground. Sand and bits of rock were spat free of his mouth as his head spun. He did his best to look around, but much of the place he found himself in was obscured by sand caught in powerful winds. It took him a while to collect himself, his head truly hurt by his fall.

Arson touched a sensitive section atop his forehead, and felt the sticky liquid being secreted from the gash.

This was the first time of many that Arson would see his own blood. No longer protected by the safety measures Almarine often added into the obstacle courses within her dojo, Arson was faced with the reality of what failure in his tasks could bring.

What did you think was going to happen, Arson? The environment may be even more deadly than battles against other cultivators…

A change in the air could be felt as growls began to echo in the storms all around Arson.

He slowly spun, the sounds making him want to run, but his analytical mind warned him against losing complete sight of the wall or bare minimum knowing which direction his exit point was in.

He ignored the drop of blood that rolled down his face into his eyes and off his chin. His gaze combed through the flashes of open space able to be glimpsed sporadically through the storm winds.

Soon the bodies could be seen rushing unhindered through the twisting sandstorm. Lithe figures composed of a pure black substance that moved like the sands they rushed through. Similar to water, their speed gave the impression of rapid currents of a river as the pack of sand wolves raced toward him.

“Sparks…” Arson ran away as fast as he could manage, no longer caring what direction he headed in as long as it was far away from the wolves that seemed far more hungry than playful.

He managed to get close to the walls that shifted nearby, the sound of charging wolves was enough pressure to push Arson to run faster than he ever had before.

The glance he managed behind himself made his heart sink when he realized the wolves were going to catch him easily.

He could easily see a handful directly behind him. One on top of the walls, jumping from section to section, as if navigating the walls movements were trivial to the creature.

Then when he turned back to look in the direction he ran in, another wolf formed from thin air. The black wolf’s entire body appeared to be a part of the sandstorm itself, created in a couple breaths before it was alive and darted directly toward Arson.

He tried not to panic, but being trapped by walls on one side, a storm on another, and flanked by wolfs both in front and behind himself, was too much for him to make a measured decision in that moment. So he turned, and charged straight into the storm.

The sand whipped across his skin like shards of glass and small cinders of fire. He screamed in pain, but covered his face with a raised arm and charged on.

Every exposed inch of skin was either cut or felt it had been set ablaze by the air around Arson. While for the second time that day he was forced to close his eyes, and press forward at any cost.

“Just keep running!”