The Aerlyntium pulsed one last time in my palm, a steady heartbeat of golden light. The swirling fractals inside seemed to collapse inward, folding into themselves until there was nothing left but a sharp, electric tingle that ran up my arm. Then the orb was gone.

In its place, a translucent grid blinked into existence in my vision, glowing faintly. The tiles shimmered, suspended in the air like a fragmented puzzle waiting to be completed. One corner flickered to life, small, pixelated icons appearing as if conjured from memory. Each icon pulsed with latent energy, their meanings just out of reach, like fragments of a half-remembered dream.

New Grid Configuration Unlocked.

The words scrolled across the interface in bold letters, accompanied by a chime that sent a ripple of tension through the room.

I scanned the grid, my heart pounding in my chest. Relief mingled with curiosity. The Aerlyntium had vanished, but it had left me with something far better than physical items—a system. One that might actually keep me alive.

Floating before me was an organized collection of what I’d acquired:

* Patchwork Platforms

* Whirling Drafts

* Bottomless Pit Token

* The Overseer

The names teased at possibilities, each one brimming with potential—but also risk. My gaze lingered on the final icon. Unlike the others, it didn’t feel like a tool or a trinket. The pixelated figure of The Overseer glared at me from its tiny square, arms crossed over a bloated chest, its head adorned with two absurdly oversized monocles perched awkwardly over its eyes. The icon practically radiated judgment, its tiny shoulders slouched in disdain.

A knot tightened in my stomach. The icon felt heavy in a way the others didn’t, a weight that seemed to press against the back of my mind. There was something foreboding about it—something I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to unleash. But the carpets beneath me churned and twisted like restless waves, and the whispering void below promised failure if I hesitated. I didn’t have a choice.

With a sharp breath, I selected The Overseer.

The room stilled. The carpets froze mid-undulation, their chaotic patterns locking into a motionless tableau. The air grew heavy, thick with a pressure that wrapped around my chest like iron bands. A single point of light appeared in the center of the platform, growing brighter and brighter until it stretched upward, forming a towering silhouette.

And then, with a resounding thud, he arrived.

The Overseer was as absurd as he was intimidating. A portly man with a balding head that gleamed under the flickering light, his long, unkempt beard spilled down his chest, streaked with gray and flecked with crumbs. His dark, sunken eyes glared at me through the lenses of two monocles—one perched on each eye—held in place by thin golden chains that dangled against his ruddy cheeks. The monocles magnified his eyes unevenly, giving him a distorted, insect-like glare.

In one hand, he gripped a crooked staff that looked less like a tool of power and more like a gnarled branch plucked from a dying tree. The other hand rested on his hip, where a threadbare sash strained to hold his billowing robe in place.

“Really?” His voice boomed, a deep baritone dripping with exasperation. “You’re the one who summoned me? This… is the best you could manage? Pathetic.”

His words hit like a slap, sharp and cutting, each syllable carefully measured to sting. My jaw tightened as his magnified gaze raked over me, his expression caught somewhere between disdain and amusement, as though he found my very existence some kind of cosmic joke.

“Well?” he barked. “Don’t just stand there gawking like a slack-jawed simpleton.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his presence pressing down on me. Whatever this “Overseer” was, he clearly wasn’t here to offer encouragement—or make anything remotely easy. A small spark of defiance flickered inside me. Did I really need to take his abuse?

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“You’re wasting my time,” the Overseer growled, his gravelly voice filling the room like the rumble of a distant storm. He tapped his crooked staff against the nearest carpet, which rippled in response, as though it feared his authority. “I expected more. Something interesting. Instead, I get… you.”

“Wasting your time?” I snapped, the frustration spilling out before I could stop myself. “What are you even talking about?”

The Overseer snorted, his beard rustling with the motion. “What I’m talking about, oh witless one, is that by triggering the carpets, you’ve already started something you’re clearly too ill-prepared to handle. That means it’s time for you to prove your worth—or, more accurately, demonstrate your lack of it.”

“Prove my—what?” I stammered, the words catching in my dry throat.

His lips curled into a sneer, the absurd monocles magnifying his disdain. “Must I spell it out for you? Very well. Let me simplify this: complete my challenges, or the void claims you. Win, and you might walk away with something that doesn’t involve abject failure. Does that penetrate whatever fog you’re calling a brain?”

The contempt in his voice was palpable, a verbal gauntlet hurled at my feet. As I struggled to piece together a coherent response, the Overseer smirked, a gleeful malice lighting up his face.

“You’re full of questions,” he said mockingly, “but here’s the thing: I’m not here to play teacher. You’ve entered my domain. My rules. My terms. The moment you stepped onto these carpets, you forfeited the right to ignorance.”

With a flick of his staff, the carpets around us twisted and shifted, rearranging themselves into a labyrinth of narrow paths, swirling air currents, and shifting shadows. The room seemed to close in around me, the air heavy with menace.

“What kind of challenges?” I asked, trying to keep the tremor out of my voice.

The Overseer’s smirk widened, his tone practically dripping with condescension. “Tailored challenges, of course. Designed specifically to highlight your inadequacies. And trust me, you have plenty. But don’t worry—if you survive, you might learn something. Not that I’m holding my breath.”

He began to pace, the crooked staff tapping against the floor in a slow, deliberate rhythm. “The labyrinth will test your mind, your mettle, and your instinct for survival. You’ll adapt—or you’ll fail. Either way, it makes no difference to me. But if you insist on standing there like a halfwit, do it inside the maze.”

“What if I just walk away?” I shot back, more out of defiance than courage.

The Overseer chuckled darkly, a sound like gravel rolling underfoot. “Oh, please, by all means, try. The void loves quitters. It’s always hungry for something… new.”

With a sharp motion of his wrist, the labyrinth writhed, the paths narrowing and shifting with eerie precision. “Now, get moving. Or do you need a map drawn in crayon to understand what’s at stake?”

His words burned with ridicule, but beneath them was a challenge, one I couldn’t ignore. Whether I liked it or not, the Overseer wasn’t going to let me back down without a fight.

space like invisible blades. The pattern looked alive, its shifting geometry designed to confuse and ensnare.

“First,” The Overseer said, pointing to a particularly narrow stretch of carpet suspended above the endless void, “you’ll cross that. But don’t dawdle—the carpets won’t stay put for long.”

“And then?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best effort to steady it.

“And then we’ll see,” he said, his grin widening further, his tone thick with sadistic amusement.

The Aerlyntium grid pulsed faintly in my vision, the translucent tiles flickering as if urging me forward. But that wasn’t all it did. I realized with a jolt that I had control. The grid wasn’t just showing me paths—it was giving me options. I could place him wherever I wanted. He might think he held all the cards, but I wasn’t bound to his whims. I could take control.

The Overseer tilted his head, his monocles flashing. “What are you waiting for, boy? Move.”

But I didn’t do anything. Not yet at least, I would try out his challenges. My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline sharpening my senses as the shifting patterns solidified into something I could use. For the first time in Penance, I was doing something because I wanted to, and not because I had to, I felt the faintest glimmer of a thrill coursing through me.

The golden light from the grid dimmed as the realization solidified in my mind. I trembled, gripping the carpet with white-knuckled desperation, sweat slicking my palms as the void below murmured its eternal threat—a predator waiting for me to slip. I had faced challenges like this a hundred times before, but this time felt different. It was nerve-wracking and exhilarating all at once, a pulse of fear and adrenaline surging through me. For the first time in what felt like forever, I was truly alive.

The Overseer’s smirk burned in my mind, his magnified gaze dripping with judgment. He thought this was his game. Well, I had no way to lose.