Ezra gulped.

He did so as quietly as he could, in an effort not to disturb the being next to him. But apparently, it was still loud enough for the Administrator to notice. The thing craned its skeletal neck towards him, swivelling one of its three heads away from the hologram projected ahead.

Its three eyes were sunken above its beak, gazing at him curiously.

Ezra felt like prey. The twin director of the C.S.O. was aware that the Administrator made a constant effort to not make him feel like prey. But it wasn’t working. The gap between himself and the strange, skeletal three-headed bird was just too wide.

“You worry?” the Administrator asked in a voice that was far too close to human for comfort. From a glance, one would expect the being beside Ezra to admit some horrid primal screech as a form of communication.

But no. It could speak English, in a perfectly human tone. It could speak every language in a perfectly replicated accent.

When humanity had first made contact with the system, the more human-looking Administrators had claimed that learning the language and practising the vocal range for it was considered a compliment. It was a gesture to put them at ease.

But every time he heard the thing standing next to him speak like a stranger he’d met on the street, Ezra only felt toyed with.

That was part of the reason he was one of the two acting directors of the C.S.O.

Because he didn’t trust the system, regardless of the gifts it gave him.

“No,” Ezra said flatly, lying. He had been worried every second of every day since he was given his duty. “I just wonder if that mist will be used on Earth.”

The head facing his way shook.

“You worry too much.” The Administrator reassured him. “The mist is already present on your planet.”

Ezra's hand went to his beard, stroking it carefully. A nervous tick he’d never really kicked. His face was contorted in a frown just thinking about the terrifying mist that had been present on the holographic screen. It displayed the fruits of his labour, and he was the sole human allowed to monitor the situation on Zenith.

He didn’t need to ask to know what that mist did. Ezra had been shown ample examples along with the rest of the fifty-five. They all knew about that part of the Invitation ahead of time. Part of the agreement Earth had come to with the system gave a clause about meaningful advice and aid with preparation.

Still, the hard part hadn’t started yet. That would come when the mist cleared or any of the other races decided to encroach on human territory.

“The system never warned us about the mist coming to Earth,” Ezra stated, hiding the venom behind his voice with a flat tone.

“It was irrelevant.” The Administrator answered, turning his head back to the holographic screen. Views of Zenith and humanity's Conclave flashed on the screen, constantly switching perspectives at the Administrator's will. “The mist landed in uninhabited zones. There it will remain inert until you have earned it.”

Earned it? Ezra almost wanted to scoff. Why would they ever want to earn something so disastrous? As it was, he was hearing word on his earpiece every few minutes about a new outpour of its liquid equivalent.

His mouth opened to press the subject but then closed before he asked something the Administrator wouldn’t answer. The skeletal bird wasn’t under contract to answer anything that didn’t directly pertain to Zenith’s Calling. The dismissive answer he’d got was likely the best Ezra was going to get.

So the director accepted it and moved on. He’d had to do that a lot recently. He sensed the trend would continue going forward.

His attention shifted from his thoughts as the Administrator brought up the wider map view. From there, he could see all the Conclaves outlined, along with all the landmarks. Humanities Conclave was filled to the brim with red dots, each one signifying a man or woman he’d trained and approved of.

Ezra had put a face to each codename and number on that leaderboard. All of them were the best of the best, well and truly prepared for the advent of the system, with enough financial backing to accommodate every need they’d ever have.

They were the spearhead of humanity after all. They’d all been summoned to Zenith in the Conclave as forewarned by the system and luckily no one had gotten too adventurous yet.

Looking at you Aldo. Otherwise known as Wilt, the Italian had always been the most reckless of the fifty-five. But he was also one of the more dangerous weapons humanity had on its roster.

As agreed upon, they would disperse into strike teams to reinforce the perimeter of their Conclave’s territory. After that, all that remained was fending off the Splintered, assessing any risks aptly and doing what needed to be done to get Lumina back to the Conclave.

Ezra trusted them. He’d met the group dozens of times and while a few were a bit rowdy, they were all professionals who knew the stakes.

All fifty-five of them.

Ezra tried not to notice it. He tried not to let his eyes linger on the one red dot that wasn’t grouped with the others. Instead sitting on the edge of the mist in the territory of the wrong Conclave.

He did his best to keep his mouth shut and not ask again.

It didn’t work.

“We agreed on fifty-five humans,” Ezra said, a hint of annoyance seeping into his tone. “With our physical, mental and technological capacity, that was what was deemed fair.”

The Administrator hissed. The sound was much more along the lines of what you would expect from it given its appearance. A screeching vibration that caused you to wince as it shook your eardrums.

Ezra remained undeterred. He stood there, expecting an answer and knowing he’d receive one. Because it retained directly to Zenith’s Calling.

“The gods saw fit to grant one of your people a chance.” The Administrator said in a low grumbling tone.

A chance, huh?

The fifty-sixth had started on the edge of the ring, in mist territory. On the wrong side. How was that a chance?

It’s a death sentence. Ezra was sure of it.

Part of him would be happy with that outcome, as morbid as it sounded. The fifty-sixth was an unknown variable. A person outside of his direct leadership and thus capable of moving against him. Someone who could quite possibly move against humanity for their own interests. The fifty-sixth was a wildcard by the system and something the fifty-five would have to deal with.

But that part of Ezra that empathised with his fellow man recognised that the fifty-sixth was in a far worse situation than his fifty-five. From what he’d seen so far, it was clear that the system itself was working against the fifty-sixth. Putting them at a far greater risk than any other human.

That part felt particularly unfair.

“Can you at least guide them towards the Conclave?” Ezra asked, doing his best to give this strange wanderer a chance at survival. They would need it.

“You know the rules human.” The Administrator snorted. “We can watch but we cannot interfere.”

So he’d just have to watch from the sidelines? Ezra almost felt cowardly. Whenever he’d give one of his big speeches to the fifty-five, he’d always spoken it from the heart. But the truth was, when it came down to it, they were the ones facing danger.

And they were also the only ones that could help the lost soul that had stumbled into the system’s first Trial.

Ezra motioned for the Administrator to turn the hologram back to surveillance of the Conclave, but his eyes remained glued on that lone red dot so far in enemy territory. Precariously close to a wall of mist after making a mad dash away from its all-consuming presence. He was preparing himself to see the fifty-sixth dot blink out of existence.

Try not to die, whoever you are. Ezra thought, gripping his hands tightly on the console beneath him. We can't go silent into the night.

********************************

James was in a tree. Again.

He was aware of the fact that it was beginning to become a trend, but that didn’t mean it was any less effective of a tool when it came to scouting. Scouting that would be rather crucial now he had been forced into the much more open yellow plains. The looper was still on the edge of the mist, having grown quite comfortable next to his wall of darkness.

He would’ve liked to move forward. The fire crackling over the ridge put a stop to that. James wasn’t going anywhere near that till he knew who and what had started it.

So he was crouched on the lowest hanging branch he could find, inspecting his bleeding foot. The looper had stepped on something spiked on his descent, leading to a very messy change of socks.

Thank god I brought spares. James thought, sticking his bloody ones in a ziplock back and storing them back in his backpack. It was overly cautious to be so careful with bloody socks. But all it takes is one dude with blood magic and it’s goodnight James. So the ruined socks stayed in the bag.

The looper wasn’t sure where the limits of Sources started and ended, but he wasn’t willing to take the chance that people wouldn’t have witch powers.

Once he was done fixing up his feet James checked all his essentials, making sure he hadn’t lost anything while running.

Still got everything. Not dead. These are all positives. What wasn’t positive was the state of his body. To put it bluntly, he was racked with fatigue. He was regaining his energy much slower than before and his body felt heavy. James wasn’t unfit but running a dead sprint for kilometres in such suffocating heat had drained a lot out of his tank.

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I must smell awful. Sweat was dripping off his tightly packed clothes at this point. The run had reduced much of his water supply, leaving him down to a canister and a half.

Need water. Badly. The looper had food covered for at least a few days, and he could rely on the giant trees for shelter if it came down to it. But water was still a problem.

If he climbed further up the tree, James knew he’d be able to see over the ridge line. But the idea of staying in a tree longer than necessary had soured in his mind, so the looper swung down and committed to his next best option.

Avoiding.

Considering how dangerous and intimidating the wall of mist was, chances were the other creatures undertaking this Trial would be hesitant to approach. James could use that. The looper already knew he could outrun the mist if it came down to it. Better to deal with the devil you know and all that.

James dropped to the ground as lightly as he could, careful to make quiet movements as he slowly circled away from the ridge. The looper made sure to walk between trees and yellow undergrowth, utilising the abundance of flora to his advantage.

The yellow flora was much more open than the purple, making it easier to weave between but much harder to hide in. The sheer size of the trees also meant that they were more spread out, leading to even further reduced cover.

Slowly he edged his way along the fringes of the mist, keeping his gun at the ready and his perceptions sharp. Second Life still thrummed in the back of his mind, doing something James didn’t have the spare time to focus on. He found it easier to just let the Skill do its thing.

The more he traversed the yellow forest, the clearer the differences between it and the purple jungle became. The ground was flat for the most part, leading to an abundance of ridges and small hills that obscured vision. But not entirely. At certain angles, he could spot that massive Conclave along with what looked to be…

Buildings. They were more like dirt mounds. He wasn’t close enough to see them properly, only catching glimpses.

The yellow forest also had much wider clearings the further you went, filled with tall grass and undergrowth. James didn’t dare step in the out and open of those.

Doing his best to ignore the daunting wall of darkness so close to him, James continued to traverse along the fridge in the yellow forest. Until he heard it.

A trickle.

A small, rushing trickle that tingled on the edge of his ears. Inviting him forward.

The sound came from further inwards, closer to the centre of the arena. Earlier he might’ve refused to move closer inwards for water but James was coming to understand he probably wasn’t going to have a choice. The Trial would force him forward, one way or another.

The looper would willingly do it if it meant water.

James stayed to the slow and careful style, closing in on the water sound until he finally found it, between a thick hedge. At first preliminary glance, it appeared to be a pond, but upon closer inspection, it was more like a river. Had to be at least ten metres wide with a mild current to it, following the much lighter slope towards the centre of the arena.

It broke and weaved at intervals, twisting around trees and banks before coming back into one solid river again with strange vines sprawling above it. It gave the looper an impression that the river had formed around the forest, almost artificially splitting the two walls of hedges that ran along either side of it.

But what struck James the most about the twisting river, was its colour.

It was dark red. So dark that hid the bank beneath, making its depth murky and unwelcoming.

Is that even water?

The moment he wondered, the golden words answered.

[Life Ichor]

[Description: A substitute for water. Drinkable by all races currently participating in the Invitation and capable of increased regenerative capacity, stamina and vigour in high doses]

James' first thought was what constituted a high dose. His second thought was wondering what the side effect was. Because he got the feeling that Zenith might not have water if they could substitute it for something else, and that probably meant Life Ichor had a trade-off. A trade-off he’d likely have to accept.

His options were limited and the heat was still as suffocating as ever.

He could look for another source of hydration but there was no guarantee there was one nearby. The looper was also already running in the mid-ranges on energy, and trekking through the forest without the need to look for water could be a godsend.

There are no tracks either. The looper had seen tracks occasionally, further towards the centre, squashing between grass and mud. They weren’t human. They weren’t anything he’d ever seen before. To his best guesses, they belonged to something with claws that was bipedal, but that was about it.

They were too infrequent as close to the mist as he was, and the looper wasn’t willing to get closer just to investigate.

The important part is that I don’t see any of them here. James had tracked along the hedge wall long enough in each direction to be fairly confident that those bipedal-clawed creatures weren’t near the river banks. At least not close enough to notice him while he quickly filled up his two canisters, along with an empty thermos he had.

The looper stayed on the edge of the hedge, hiding between it and underbrush as he deliberated just how he’d go about getting the water. The conclusion he came to, was simply that getting in and out quickly was the best option. By the nature of the river, there wasn’t exactly cover on its bank, so stealth was out of the picture.

And there was zero merit to going slowly so quick it was.

If I end up finding water, I’ll swap it out for what I fill up. That was his rationality. It was better to have Life Ichor than have nothing, even if he didn’t trust it.

“From death mist to rivers of blood,” James whispered to himself, amazed by how quickly things had escalated. Just another reminder that he’d be better off on earth. Where he could do something instead of scavenging like he was.

The looper stayed creeping along the edge of the hedge for a moment and then slipped through the gaps in the large yellow hedge, immediately sliding onto the muddy bank of the river. The bank was almost half as wide as the river on either side, leaving a lot of room open for sight and making James immediately wary.

Be quick. He told himself, smothering the worry with action. The looper ran along the bank towards the edge of the river and kneeled, a canister already in the head. He slung his shotgun onto his back with his rifle, keeping it away from the water as he dipped his hands in with the canister to fill it.

The river of Life Ichor felt like… orange juice? Thinner than milk but thicker than water. It shifted through his hands with a strong enough current to require some resistance on his hand. The suffocating heat was silenced by the cool liquid that ran through his fingers.

Someone could easily get swept away. His eyes shifted towards the middle of the river, where rocks protruded, creating ripples of red as the current pulled harder. It’s deep there. Deep enough for a man to drown.

That honestly made sense. Zenith’s whole purpose was battle, why wouldn’t the water be deep enough for you to drown a man?

Well, a human. He hadn’t a clue how tall or aquatic the other races were.

The slight trickle of the water had turned into a constant rushing of liquid that drowned out the atmospheric buzz of Zenith. Even behind the hedge, he’d been able to hear the ever-constant chitter of the forest. But all the looper heard now was the river.

Amidst the heat and exhaustion, James felt a longer build in his bones. How nice it would be to feel the coolness of the water wash over his whole body.

No. He didn’t have time. The situation he was in was still too widely unstable.

The looper filled his first canister fine, then moved on to his second. Halfway through filling it, his eyes caught the glow above that had been obscured from behind the hedge.

Above him, dangling off the vines strewn above the river were orbs that glowed with a ghostly azure.

They look tasty. Almost like glowing berries. Very alluring. But James had his own human-approved food, and it would be a decent climb just to get them. The looper was ready to dismiss them until golden words painted an explanation across his vision.

A very intriguing one.

[Source-Cyst]

[Description: Grants a Source from the racial Source Pool when ingested by a system-integrated being. For those who already possess a Source, ingesting will aid in Source development]

The second part concerned James and was interesting, to say the least.

But the first part of the description caught the looper’s attention and wouldn’t let go.

If I pick those berries I could… Give anyone he wanted a Source. Give anyone he wanted power. The chance to fight as he possessed.

And the potential to shackle them in a prison of their own power, just like himself. The looper couldn’t have but immediately been conflicted at the thought of giving it to those he cared about. Michael, Hugh, Jake… none of them possessed a Source, which put them a leg behind already in what the world was becoming.

But isn’t that a good thing? The looper couldn’t say. The idea that he could inflict the same pain he’d suffered upon his loved ones terrified James so deeply and wholly that he almost immediately wanted to throw the idea away.

There was just one problem. The world wasn’t turning towards being a kind place, it was turning towards being a hellhole, filled with who knew what horrors. From what James could tell, a Source was going to become a necessity for survival. It was the base of all the gifts granted by the system.

This is why they’re here. Zenith’s Calling was an Invitation that ended with opening a way to the horrid place for all of humanity. James had put that together from all the system and Archive had told him about the accursed place. Part of him had wondered why anyone would want to be a part of this death game besides stupidity or a lust for power.

That was it. Dangling above his head. A crucial part of what Zenith offered in exchange for blood.

Power.

Power anyone could possess at the bite of a berry.

“The currency of a new world.” James thought, his eyes affixed on the Source-Cysts. He could already picture exactly what those fifty-five other humans were planning.

Each and everyone could get ahold of these and make themselves a central piece of humanity moving forward. It would be so easy. The looper could already see how simple it would be to garner support and loyalty with one bite.

He could also acknowledge how quickly things could descend into chaos with that much power weighing between fifty-five people.

Nope. James thought, focusing back on his thermos which had long since started overflowing with Life Ichor. Not my peanuts, not my monkeys.

Not his problem.

The fifty-five could fight with each other to death for all he cared, so long as they gathered at least half the necessary Lumina. Half was an acceptable contribution from the rest of them. Anything less and James knew he’d be stuck on Zenith for a while.

James let those thoughts drift away as he focused back on efficiency and getting the hell off the bank. He filled his thermos and capped it shut then tried to pull his hand out of the river.

That’s when he felt something pulling against him, nipping at his wrist. It felt like a small hand trying to drag him down to the bottom of the water.

James yanked his hand as hard as he could immediately, pulling a knife from his belt with his other hand. The moment his hand left the water pain replaced the cool feeling, dragging up to reveal a small dark green snake latching onto his hand.

Biting down hard enough to draw blood and anchoring itself to the river bank.

The looper swung his knife through it in an instant without hesitation. The snake’s scales offered a moment of resistance before the sharpened blade cleaved through it, revealing the milky pink innards beneath.

All the body below the head fell into the river but the head held firm, requiring James to pry it off before he was finally free of the thing.

[Congradulations! You have defeated a Proto-Avarnkin]

[Due to the nature of your Spark, all experience will be funnelled towards Source and Skill progression]

[Lumina: 1.3]

James didn’t waste time and immediately started pressing down hard on the open head of the snake, testing for venom. The looper didn’t care about the notification, he was much more worried about getting poisoned.

That was until something wrapped around his leg, bursting through the muddy bank and trying to drag James into the river.