“I can’t tell you… yet at least.” Arson didn’t like the response, and knew that he wasn’t going to get anything else out of Anastasia.

It wasn’t that he had an almost uncountable amount of runes that he’d never seen before at his fingertips that bothered him, it was the feeling that the knowledge was vast and powerful, but not deserved. He told himself that he wouldn’t use unfamiliar runes without large amounts of studying or runic training and discovery, and moved on.

He was tired of the amount of secrets he faced during his trials so far, and recognized as he grew older that he hated secrets.

The secrets about his family. Secrets about his own birth. Even the unknown secrets he was yet to discover and be faced with.

Arson pushed the thoughts to the back of his mind and roamed through the palace. Luckily for him he took the time to get an aerial view above the palace, or he would have been genuinely confused and lost without the landmarks he recognized from his vantage point while he made his way further inside. He eventually lost track of how much time passed, and wondered if he should turn back.

He seemed to enter a large habitat that must have housed many people of many separate lifestyles and cultures. His system designated many unknown areas as bathrooms, which Arson could never use nor understand. Or a variety of different workshops, with equipment and structures he wouldn’t be able to categorize without season cycles worth of study.

Finally, Arson came to a room that was open to the sky. The outside of the room was lined by pillars that were so tall they seemed to hold up the sky as they reached far above the walls that lined the space.

Arson felt he stood in an arena built for giants with how large the field in front of him appeared to be. Yet even as he looked around he noticed the appreciation for beings his size, as stadium seating seemed to be built into the massive pillars; in addition to food stalls.

“I wonder what it was like to be here when this place was filled. I bet Troy would love to fight in a place like this,” said Arson to himself. He glanced at his watch and noticed Anastasia was no longer active, and once more his watch seemed disabled, which made him wonder what may have taken place without his knowledge.

He continued forward, and tried to pull up his system, yet for the first time in a long time, nothing appeared when he tried to access the screens. He felt an immediate panic, that he couldn’t brush aside.

By the time he made it halfway through the area, he noticed the throne on the opposing side. A throne the size of a mountain, with a power that could be felt from where Arson stood. A throne that was filled.

The being was made of iron, marble and obsidian. The materials formed dazzling spirals throughout its armor-like outer shell, and Arson for the first time in the trials hoped he wouldn’t have to fight to survive by any means.

Arson approached the unmoving being, with the hopes that he may gain an audience with whatever it was that he approached. He’d never seen a god, and still wondered what one may look like.

The man who taught me my cloak skill may have been a god, thought Arson to himself, with absolutely no idea how close to the truth he was.

Eventually Arson made it close enough to be able to see the giant from head to toe. He was also able to see the mountains of treasure at the giant's feet, and although he was interested in what he saw there, he still approached no further.

Instead he bowed, and waited. He waited for days in that position, for many reasons. Only two stood out enough to keep him there out of the many he mentally listed.

The first was that this was what decorum called for from what his mother had taught him. While the second was that the moment he bent at the waist, he felt and knew he was being watched.

“You may sit,” said a voice that could be felt throughout the entire space, rather than heard.

The being's facial structure didn’t change to indicate speech. Nor did vibration stimulate the ear, the words were felt by Arson’’s soul, which somehow worried him.

If the being in front of him was able to touch him so directly, how easily could his life be ended?

He tried not to think about his fears as he waited for more, but as the silence grew, a cycle formed.

He forced himself to think and focus on ways to survive. Thoughts of what he could be forced to survive grew in number until he only saw his death over and over, until he once more forced his mind toward thoughts of survival. Until finally the being began to converse in its odd soul speech.

“You are patient for a being with as short a life as yours, I commend whoever led you,” said the being. Arson nodded and smiled.

“Thank you, your Majesty. I will make sure to tell my mother you have praised her work,” responded Arson.

“You call me your Majesty, but do you know who I am?” Arson answered honestly and decided to shake his head. The walls shook with an odd laughter and Arson couldn’t help but smile once more.

“I am King Gestalt, first of my name, last of my kind.” Arson then nodded as he had heard a fairytale about a king who lived before time that was known as the Immortal Master of Skills. A king who could somehow become an army's worth of men in an instant, only to transform into a parade of bards to celebrate in victory around the funeral pyres of the dead after the slaughter.

His talents were as numerous as his experiences. The king was said to live so many lifetimes that some believed him to be the origin of all life. Most ancient cultivators knew the truth of what he was, and Arson’s mother just so happened to be one of the youngest individuals alive who knew it.

“I have been told of your feats by my mother, recently in fact. I am honored to be in your presence, your Majesty,” said Arson. He still felt the pressure of eyes on him, even though the king hadn’t moved. So he remained motionless, and tried to meditate to increase his focus. He’d bowed for days, and his hunger had reached a point he’d never experienced, which left him overwhelmed with the thoughts of food and when he’d be able to eat.

Without access to his watch, all the extra food in his inventory was unreachable, and Arson was saddened when he jolted upright from a slouch. He’d almost fallen asleep and knew he wouldn’t be able to stay awake without food soon.

“Why are you here, child? Only death meets those who step before me…” Arson thought to himself for a moment, then responded.

“My trial says that I must learn from the king Gestalt,” responded Arson in hopes that his actual trials requirements could be averted. He had absolutely no faith in him accomplishing the task of defeating the being in front of him.

“Why lie, child? Unlike those before you, your task isn’t impossible.”

“What do you mean, your Majesty?” Arson was confused. Did the king know why he was there?

“I have seen the result of our battle, and to my surprise, I do not win, child. Unlike your mother, father, and even both of your mother’s parents, you would manage to bring my days to an end.” Arson froze. His thoughts scattered in many directions and before he could manage to respond the king moved.

A massive hand large enough to cup a lake in its palm extended toward Arson filled with a strange red light that washed over Arson’s entire being.

In the next moment he saw himself in front of the king. Arson smiled up at the giant as the king rose to his feet. What occurred next took Arson’s breath away.

The vision he was being subjected to was vicious. Arson and king Gestalt fought.

In the beginning, the king used his massive frame to control the flow of combat. Arson was able to fly around and attack the king but his conductive water orbs had no effect against the king, and were simply slapped aside with each defensive maneuver the giant made.

“It's me or you, big man!” Still Arson’s smile remained. He fought on, and tried various things to damage a being he came to feel was invincible as time passed.

The fight continued and Arson watched as he changed alongside the seasons. Arson grew angrier the longer he fought. His desperation grew, as he’d even tried to run, only to be hunted down moments later.

For a period of time, Arson was even incapacitated for several days after being knocked out by a blow that would have killed him if his body hadn’t gone through a second tribulation. The only reason he survived for the period of unconsciousness was due to the king using Arson’s mana to track him, mana he couldn’t use while being asleep.

It was then that King Gestalt began to speak to Arson through the vision. The being described why he was losing the fight in the vision. What abilities he used to counter Arson’s own, and even began to teach him how to use magics Arson had no knowledge of or skill to use prior.

“Although I don’t know how you began to drain my power, you did and would eventually be able to drain me fully no matter what I did. I have visions of every individual I’ve battle since my birth, and my encounter with you only ever ends in darkness, no matter what I try,” said King Gestalt.

Arson indeed began to win. His conductive water orbs grew in size, volatility, and began to visibly drink power from the giant. Yet even as he came closer to victory, he still wore no smile.

His actions were joyless, even as the Arson in the vision started to make a fool out of the king. His internal energy grew so rapidly, that near the end of their brawl, it was now Arson that simply slapped aside attacks sent toward him.

The city had been destroyed almost completely. Both combatants used any and everything as weapons, or to defend themselves.

It wasn’t until the king was near death that he used his true ability and Arson was shocked by what he witnessed in the vision.

King Gestalt cloned himself, yet the clones weren’t exact duplicates, but instead were elements that formed the giants entire body, separated into their purest forms.

At first he fought three smaller giants, one formed of marble, one of iron, and the last was made of obsidian. Once again it seemed that Arson may lose the fight, but as the king increased intensity so did Arson.

“I do not show you this, child, because I am ready to die, but because my death is the only result of our interaction, and though I may lose my life anyway on this day, what you would lose in this battle is far worse than anything I could lose…”

The vision continued and Arson watched his rage grow into fury, and then toward madness.

King Gestalt did everything in his power to end Arson’s life, but nothing worked.

Both Arson and the king understood what their battle had led to. Arson’s strength had increased an untold amount, as if his own strength was determined by the might of his opponent.

The king’s mistake was his inability to end the fight instantly. Though as small as a fly to the king. Arson managed to drain the power of a far more formidable opponent than he should have ever been able to. One small conductive water orb at a time.

The king crushed him with tossed buildings, only to have them lifted and tossed back at one of his many bodies. He threw the pillars within his throne room like spears, only for Arson’s sun-like aura to catch the massive architecture, and send them rocketing back toward him. The king grew desperate, and was in shock as he was backed into a corner for the first time in his ancient existence.

Arson wasn’t far from completely having drained the king of both Uni-Vare and manna, when king Gestalt used his final ability.

“Hand of Dominion,” the words were yelled aloud by the king. The land itself shook with his speech.

“Gestalt!” In the next breath, energy was pulled from the bodies of the three titans in front of Arson, and two more bodies formed from light and elements appeared behind the king. Lines of light connected the two new ethereal forms of king Gestalt to the bodies formed from, marble, iron, and obsidian.

The king's ethereal forms seared off Arson's arms and legs with bolts of lightning and fire; for Arson to simply take a breath and the limb regrow. The forms even created weapons from the ground itself and the rubble made by their battle. Only for massive swords, spears, and hammers to be crushed with single blows from Arson’s fist.

Arson roared and charged. He could feel his own rage through the vision. The unsettled depression that he battled since he’d started the Endless trials that threatened to swallow him whole, and drown him in loneliness, had finally taken over. Arson could no longer feel anything, but utter rage and emptiness.

He wanted the vision to end. He wanted to scream, and run away. He wanted to go home.

“I sense the omen of a cataclysmic event of what may happen to the world if you lose your passion, if you lose your joy,” said king Gestalt as his elemental forms within the vision put up their last stand.

The massive hand-shaped rune that had be seen above the city lit, and the entire landscape was washed away in only a moment, or blink of an eye.

The energy that once saturated the area throughout the city around them had been pulled into the rune to the point that all materials around them had crumbled to dust.

Every building, river, garden, everything down to the clothes of the lost society was gone and used to power the Gestalt rune. A rune that made the king that much more formidable.

Arson wondered why the man hadn’t used this technique from the beginning to kill Arson off, but realized why when the king spoke up once more.

“If you lose your ability to smile in the face of your trials, it will lead to the end of all, and without life to support the gods, the heavens will fall to chaos,” said King Gestalt. Arson could feel tears run down his face, even though he couldn’t move, and the vision continued even though his guts twisted and he felt he may die by the experience alone.

Why are you showing me this, screamed Arson in his own mind. Still unable to speak aloud, and on the verge of a mental breakdown, he didn’t expect an answer, but received one anyway.

“Because as the only person to ever truly threaten my life, you have met the requirements to receive my legacy, the Gestalt rune is now yours, child. Use it wisely…”

The vision continued, and Arson felt even more energy enter his body, while simultaneously, he began to hear the winding of a massive turbine grow in the back of his mind.

He could sense the energy of the king enter his body. He knew what the king was going to do instantly as a connection grew between the two, and he felt more tears roll down his face.

I hope the great lands you built one day again support countless lives king Gestalt, I’m sorry you chose to give your life before you could see it once more. Arson was filled with emotions and thoughts he could feel were the sensations of the King. The love and pride he had for the city he built and left for his family and even life abroad.

Until the end the king fought like a madman. His three physical bodies were used as front line defenders, while his two ethereal bodies fought at a range that made the king a formidable unit all by himself.

What occurred during the trial should have been impossible. No child should have been able to bridge the gap between where Arson was, as an incomplete cultivator, and where king Gestalt was, as a Titan.

Even still, Arson’s rage refined all his lost battles, unfinished skills, and untapped potential and transformed him into a master of death and sunlight, over season cycles of combat without end.

Arson gasped as he watched himself form a massive black orb of conductive waters be created with a black hole at its center, large enough to distort the colors from the suns above. Arson flew high above and raised a hand to blot out the sky itself.

He then watched his frown deepen, before he dropped the black sun orb toward the king as easily as a germaphobic bookworm could drop a dirt-covered rock to the ground in disgust

The ethereal forms of king Gestalt manifested shields for his physical bodies from thin air, made of the same materials their structures was constructed from, while massive earthen and stone walls were raised around the king in a final defense. A defense that failed miserably.

The orb filled with energy, water, and the twisted void of time and space eviscerated everything it touched. Gestalt’s life ended, and the dying king’s energy entered through Arson’s pores through the connection the young man’s body had to his own technique; the newly transformed, conductive water orbs

Arson watched as all five bodies were disintegrated and absorbed completely. Yet as one possible future was experienced and learned from, a new fate was created by King Gestalt and Arson’s actions that day.

The vision ended with the sight of Arson’s grim figure floating above a dead man no larger than himself. His facial features as emotionally void as the wasteland around him. The only thing left of the trial, were the final spoken words of the king.

“Do not sacrifice your joy for anyone or anything, child, for what that sacrifice will bring is far greater than any villainy creation has experienced thus far.

In the end Arson was able to open his eyes and see the now empty mountain sized throne. The only thing left of king Gestalt, were subtle wisps of energy that drifted around the pristine throne room, and the handprint of the Gestalt rune that now resided on his left pectoral muscles, burned there into his flesh permanently.

Before words could leave his mouth, Arson was taken away. Teleported to a new place before he could thank the king for the two blessings he’d received.

The first, was the vision. Although he knew he hadn’t lived through it, the experience though traumatic still offered much to be learned from. He was able to see things he’d never performed, but was capable of or had the potential for at a bare minimum.

While the second was the rune now burned into his chest. He had a sense of how the king used the rune, but how it would work with his own physical make up. He was clueless to its full functions and capabilities. A true set of gifts that he could never be able to show enough appreciation for.

“Thank you.” The words echoed and Arson attempted to wipe the tears from his face, only to realize he couldn’t move.

He was forced to blink a few times before he was able to see and look around. He quickly noticed he dangled from chains around his wrists connected to the ceiling; with an additional set of chains around his ankles that linked him to the floor.

He couldn’t feel his core, and felt thirsty. His hunger had reached an all time high and he knew his body was seemingly on the verge of failure.

From what he experienced so far, he hadn’t had to face hunger. Somehow he remained satiated by mana alone, but he hadn’t felt the familiar buzz of ambient energy around him, and realized he hadn’t since he entered King Gestalt’s throne room.

He was now within a chamber lined with tables. The equipment across the surfaces could only be described as torture instruments. Items designed for those who desired to hear the melodies brought on by an individual's pain.

“Survive the tortures of the Omen scions,” read Arson as the notification flashed in his vision, and Anastasia spoke up. Her voice filled with static as she tried to yell.

“I don’t know where you are, Arson, but this doesn’t look good. Your mother never made it this far from what I learned from her, she never described being connected to the chains made by Carter and the Furies, I don’t know what the objective is, I don’t know how to help you,” said a frantic Anastasia before Arson sighed. He swayed even as the large metallic door in front of him opened, and anxiety of what was to come unsettled him mentally. He shook his head to try and shake free the sinister images on the brim of his imagination.

“Welcome traveler. Don’t cry, you should smile at this opportunity for growth we both have been presented with.” The words came through the door clearly even before the individual was able to enter. But to Arson’s and this unknown person's surprise, Arson put on a huge smile before he spoke.

“Gladly…”