The sentinels moved with an eerie precision, their glowing red eyes unwavering as they advanced. Thorne’s pulse quickened, but he forced himself to remain calm. The cold, mechanical menace of these constructs only sharpened his focus.
"Terrifying? Sure," Thorne quipped, his voice steady despite the tension. "But I’ve faced worse. I think."
Leona clutched her bow tightly, her hands trembling as her knuckles whitened. “They’re not stopping…” she muttered, her voice barely audible.
Eren adjusted his grip on his shield, glancing over his shoulder at Leona. “Stay behind me. We’ve got this.”
Thorne stepped forward, dagger in hand, as his Critical Eye skill activated. The weak points of the sentinels' armor glimmered faintly in his vision, like cracks in an otherwise impenetrable wall. He smirked. Alright, let’s see what you’re made of.
The first sentinel lunged, its movement swift and unnervingly precise. Thorne sidestepped with practiced ease, his dagger flashing as it struck the glowing weak point on the sentinel’s shoulder joint. Sparks flew as the blade found its mark, but the construct didn’t so much as flinch.
Jax let out a frustrated grunt as he swung his sword in a wide arc, the weapon bouncing harmlessly off his opponent’s chest plate. “What the hell are these things made of?” he bellowed, his voice tinged with panic.
“Not paper, apparently,” Thorne shot back, ducking under another strike and driving his dagger into the knee of his second foe. The sentinel staggered but didn’t fall, its red eyes locking onto him with chilling detachment.
Through the gaps in the sentinels' armor, Thorne could see nothing but darkness, confirming that these were not flesh-and-blood beings, but magical constructs. This knowledge only added to their eerie presence.
Jax, for all his bravado, was quickly losing ground. His powerful strikes lacked finesse, leaving him open to counterattacks. The sentinels pressed him relentlessly, their movements cold and calculated.
“Jax, tighten up your swings!” Thorne barked, dodging a heavy blow aimed at his head. “You’re leaving yourself wide open!”
“Easy for you to say!” Jax snarled, his blade clanging against a sentinel’s shield. He gritted his teeth, sweat dripping down his brow as he tried to adjust his technique.
Leona trembled behind Eren, her bow shaking as she tried to pull an arrow from her quiver. Her breath came in shallow gasps, fear gripping her like a vice. “I can’t… I can’t do this,” she whimpered.
“You can,” Eren said firmly, his voice cutting through her panic. “Just aim for the gaps in their armor. We’ll cover you.”
Thorne danced around his opponents, his movements a masterful combination of speed and precision. His dagger struck again and again, targeting the joints and exposed areas illuminated by his Critical Eye. One sentinel slowed noticeably, its left arm hanging limply at its side.
“Not so tough now, are you?” Thorne muttered under his breath, satisfaction flickering across his face.
But his brief moment of triumph was interrupted by a metallic clang as Jax’s sword was wrenched from his hands, clattering to the ground. “Shit!” Jax growled, retreating as his two opponents closed in.
Thorne’s gaze flicked to Jax, irritation flaring in his chest. “Hold them off! Don’t let them corner you!”
“I’m trying!” Jax snapped, his voice strained.
Thorne redirected his attention, ducking under a sentinel’s swinging blade and plunging his dagger into its side. The construct shuddered, a grinding noise emanating from within as it faltered.
Eren, using his shield with surprising agility, stepped forward to intercept one of Jax’s attackers. The sentinel’s sword glanced off Eren’s shield, sending sparks flying. “I’ll take this one!” Eren shouted, his voice calm but commanding.
Leona, encouraged by Eren’s steadiness, finally nocked an arrow. She drew the bowstring back, her green eyes narrowing as she aimed for a sentinel’s weak point. The arrow flew, striking true and embedding itself deep into a gap of its armor. The construct jerked, its movements faltering.
“I did it!” Leona exclaimed, a mix of relief and disbelief in her voice.
“Keep it up!” Thorne called, a genuine smile flashing across his face. The shot was more luck than skill, but he would take it anyway.
He spun away from another attack, his dagger flashing as he struck the weak point on his remaining opponent’s knee. The sentinel crumpled, its movements grinding to a halt. Thorne didn’t pause, turning his focus to the others.
“Jax, pick up your damn sword!” Thorne barked, his tone sharp.
Jax growled in frustration but complied, retrieving his weapon and rejoining the fight.
The air was thick with the sounds of clashing metal and labored breaths. The sentinels, though formidable, were beginning to falter under the relentless assault.
“Eren, cover Leona! Jax, stop swinging like a drunkard and aim for the joints!” Thorne commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Thorne twisted and parried, his movements a blur of deadly precision. He felt a rush of satisfaction each time his blade found its mark, exploiting the weak points his Critical Eye skill revealed. The sentinels, though relentless, could not match his speed and agility.
Jax, meanwhile, was struggling to keep up. His opponents pressed him hard, their strikes coming fast and furious. Despite his strength, he was slowly being overwhelmed. He managed to land a few solid hits, but his lack of experience showed. His opponents adapted quickly, their mechanical precision wearing him down.
Thorne darted in and out, his blade slicing through the air. He drove his dagger into the armpit of one sentinel, exploiting a gap in the armor. The sentinel shuddered, its movements faltering. Thorne spun away, avoiding a retaliatory strike from the other sentinel.
"Just like I said, Jax. Precision over power," Thorne called out, his voice carrying a sharp edge of confidence. A cocky grin spread across his face as he landed another precise blow against a sentinel. "Watch and learn."
Jax shot him a venomous glare but kept his mouth shut, his attention split between his frustration and the relentless attacks of his opponents. Despite his brute strength, it was clear Jax was struggling from lack of experience. His swings were powerful but lacked the refinement necessary to overcome the sentinels' relentless precision.
Thorne, meanwhile, felt his confidence growing with each successful strike. His Critical Eye skill illuminated weak points like a guiding star, turning the once-daunting constructs into manageable opponents. He darted forward, evading a horizontal slash aimed at his midsection, and drove his dagger into the exposed joint between a sentinel's breastplate and arm. The satisfying crunch of metal giving way was accompanied by the collapse of the construct, its armor clattering to the ground as the dark magic animating it dissipated into the air.
Skill Level Up: Critical Eye!
The notification flashed in his vision, but there was no time to revel in his progress. The moment the sentinel fell, the eyes of the remaining constructs flared a blinding crimson, casting the corridor in a sinister red glow. The atmosphere shifted abruptly, the oppressive energy filling the air like a suffocating shroud.
Thorne froze, his bravado evaporating as a sudden wave of fear gripped him. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. His confidence crumbled under the weight of a surge of doubts and insecurities. Memories of every failure, every moment of helplessness, clawed at his mind like a thousand invisible hands dragging him into a pit.
His breathing turned shallow, each gasp scraping against his throat like jagged glass. His dagger felt heavy in his hand, the once-familiar weapon now a useless weight. He tried to force his legs to move, to regain his composure, but the fear was paralyzing.
For long, harrowing moments, Thorne could do nothing but watch as the sentinels advanced, his heart pounded in his chest.
The corridor around him seemed to warp, the flickering torchlight twisting into shadowy shapes that mocked his weakness. Thorne clenched his jaw, willing himself to fight through the haze, but his mind was drowning in a storm of doubt and despair.
Then, a piercing scream shattered the oppressive fog like a thunderclap. The sound was raw, primal, and filled with terror, cutting through the darkness that gripped his mind.
Thorne’s vision snapped back into focus, and what he saw nearly broke him.
Jax stood frozen in place, his broad shoulders hunched, his sword clutched against his chest like a child holding a stuffed toy. His wide, vacant eyes stared past the sentinels as though he had already accepted defeat. Blood dripped from the countless cuts marring his skin, painting his once-defiant stance with exhaustion.
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Eren was sprawled on the ground, his shield resting over his torso like a makeshift blanket. A deep gash ran along his side, his body soaked with blood. His face was pale, his breaths shallow and labored, each one a struggle against the encroaching darkness.
But it was Leona who stole the breath from Thorne's lungs.
A sentinel loomed over her, its blade piercing straight through her chest. Her green eyes, so wide with terror, locked onto Thorne's, silently pleading for help that came too late. She tried to speak, but no words came, only a soft, choked sound. Her body sagged as the sentinel withdrew its blade, and she crumpled to the floor, the bow slipping from her fingers with a lifeless clatter.
"No!"
Thorne's scream tore through the corridor, his voice cracking with anguish. Fury roared to life within him, a flame ignited by the sight of Leona's lifeless body. The crimson glow of the sentinels’ eyes no longer held power over him. Fear was burned away, replaced by a rage so intense it threatened to consume him.
His grip tightened around his dagger as he rose, his eyes blazing with resolve. "Not one more," he growled under his breath, his voice low and dangerous.
Activating Aether Surge, Thorne felt raw power course through him, electrifying every fiber of his being. The world around him slowed to a crawl, the flickering torchlight elongating into surreal streaks of gold as his heightened senses captured every detail. The creak of armor, the grinding of gears within the sentinels, even the uneven breaths of his companions—everything sharpened into a symphony of urgency.
He launched himself forward, a blur of lethal precision, his movements almost too fast for the human eye to follow. His dagger struck with unerring accuracy, guided by his Critical Eye skill. Gaps in the sentinels' armor glowed like beacons, and Thorne exploited them with ruthless efficiency. His blade slipped between plates, severing the dark magic threads animating the constructs.
One sentinel crumbled beneath his onslaught, its armor falling apart as if surrendering to the inevitable. Thorne whirled around, his focus narrowing on Jax, who was being driven back by another sentinel. The boy’s wild swings lacked resolve, as if he had already surrendered.
“Jax!” Thorne barked, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade "Jax, snap out of it!”
Jax barely registered the command, his strength flagging. Thorne sprang into action, darting between them with predatory grace. His dagger found its mark in the sentinel’s shoulder joint, the construct shuddering as its movements slowed. A quick follow-up strike to the knee joint sent it toppling, and Jax, emboldened by the reprieve, followed through with a powerful swing that shattered the sentinel’s helmet. The glow of its eyes dimmed as the magic animating it dissipated.
“See? Not so hard when you use your head,” Thorne quipped, though his tone was laced with urgency.
Jax nodded, his breaths labored but more focused. “Thanks... but we’re not done yet.”
Across the corridor, Eren stood his ground despite his injury, his shield raised against the relentless assault of the remaining sentinel. Each strike rang out like a thunderclap, reverberating through the hallway as Eren gritted his teeth in pain. His injured arm trembled under the strain, but he refused to yield.
“Thorne, I can’t hold this much longer!” Eren shouted, desperation creeping into his voice.
“I’m coming!” Thorne called back, his tone steel-edged. He sprinted toward Eren, dodging around debris and sentinels’ remains.
With Jax following close behind, the two boys moved in concert, their strikes perfectly timed. Thorne ducked under a horizontal swing from the sentinel, landing a precise blow to its exposed side. Jax capitalized on the opening, bringing his sword down in a crushing arc that dented the sentinel’s chest plate.
“Keep at it!” Thorne yelled, his dagger slicing through a vulnerable joint in the construct’s leg. The sentinel faltered, its movements becoming sluggish.
Jax roared as he swung again, his sword connecting with the sentinel’s helmet and sending shards of metal flying. The construct collapsed in a heap, its glowing red eyes fading to black as the dark magic dissipated.
The battle was over.
Thorne stood amidst the wreckage, his chest heaving as he tried to steady his breath. His dagger dripped with the oily remnants of the constructs’ magic. The adrenaline coursing through his veins ebbed, leaving behind a bone-deep weariness.
Jax collapsed to his knees, clutching his injured arm as his sword clattered to the ground. His earlier bravado was gone, replaced by a haunted exhaustion. “We made it,” he muttered, though his voice was devoid of triumph.
Eren slumped against the wall, his shield slipping from his grasp. Blood seeped from the gash in his side, staining the stone floor beneath him. He pressed a hand to the wound, his face pale and slick with sweat.
But Thorne’s attention was fixed on Leona.
He knelt beside her still form, his hands trembling as he gently closed her wide, lifeless eyes. The bow she had so reluctantly accepted lay discarded beside her, its string slack and useless.
“I’m sorry, Leona,” Thorne whispered, his voice hollow. The weight of guilt pressed down on him like a stone, heavier than any sentinel’s blow. “I should have been faster. I should have protected you.”
Her pale face was etched into his memory, her final moments replaying in a loop that he couldn’t escape. The silence that followed was deafening, the absence of her timid voice a stark reminder of their loss.
The weight of their loss settled over them like a shroud, the reality of their situation pressing down on them. Thorne's mind raced, trying to process everything that had happened. His thoughts were a chaotic mix of detachment and a burning determination to survive.
Jax, the once brash and boastful loudmouth, now looked like a broken puppet with its strings cut. His gaze was fixed on Leona’s lifeless body, his expression a haunted mask of fear and disbelief. He muttered under his breath, his words barely audible, but the gravity of them was unmistakable. “We could actually die down here...” The realization weighed on him like a millstone, dragging his confidence into the void.
Eren, leaning heavily against the wall, caught Thorne’s eye. His face was pale, etched with pain, but his brown eyes burned with a mix of fear and determination. “This isn’t just a test,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “This is a death trap.”
Thorne nodded, his jaw tightening. The rawness of their situation was undeniable now. “We need to keep moving,” he said firmly, his voice carrying an edge of command. “We can’t stay here. Standing still means dying.”
Jax and Eren gave shaky nods, the grim reality forcing them forward. They gathered their weapons—Jax with trembling hands and Eren clutching his shield like a lifeline—and began their slow march down the corridor.
As they trudged forward, the battle replayed in Thorne’s mind, each moment etched with precision. He remembered the glow of the sentinels’ red eyes, the brutal clang of steel, and the heart-wrenching scream that had shattered the air. His stomach twisted as he stole a glance at Jax. The boy’s bravado had been stripped bare, leaving a hollow shell of what had once been arrogant overconfidence. If he doesn’t pull himself together, Thorne thought grimly, he’ll be the next one to fall.
He shifted his gaze to Eren. Despite his injury, Eren had shown a quiet strength that Thorne hadn’t expected. The image of him shielding Leona’s body, even after she was gone, struck a chord in Thorne that he wasn’t ready to admit. There was a depth to Eren, a resilience that demanded respect. Still, Thorne kept his face neutral, his guard up. Respect didn’t mean trust—not here, not now.
“We’re not in some harmless training exercise,” Thorne said, breaking the oppressive silence. His voice carried a sharp edge, cutting through their heavy breaths. “This is real. We could die here. And if we’re not ready to face that, we’re already dead.”
Jax’s head snapped toward Thorne, anger flickering behind his hollowed-out eyes. But the anger quickly gave way to despair. “I thought I was ready,” he whispered, his voice barely carrying over the sound of their footsteps. “I thought I was strong enough.”
His shoulders slumped, and his pace faltered. “I was always so strong,” he muttered, the words more for himself than anyone else. “I beat everyone who challenged me. Every single one. My trainer, Aric, he picked me because of my strength. He said I was the best he’d seen in years.”
Eren, limping beside him, shot Jax a look filled with resentment and exasperation. Even through his pain, Eren’s voice carried a sharp bite. “Strength isn’t everything,” he said, his tone like a blade slicing through Jax’s delusion. He leaned heavily on his shield, using it as a makeshift crutch, his frustration boiling to the surface. “You can be the strongest in the room, but if you don’t think, you’ll still lose. Maybe that’s something your precious trainer forgot to tell you.”
Thorne remained silent, letting Eren’s words sink in. He’d seen too many like Jax on the streets of Alvar—kids who thought muscle and bravado would save them, only to crumble when reality struck. This wasn’t any different. Death wasn’t just a possibility here; it was a promise, lingering in every shadow and waiting for the smallest misstep.
Their journey through the corridor was heavy with unspoken thoughts and stifling tension. The air grew colder, the silence broken only by their labored breaths and the rhythmic echo of their footsteps. Finally, they passed through a foreboding doorway and entered a room that seemed pulled from another world.
The air was thick and cloying, carrying an unidentifiable scent that pricked at their senses. The walls were alive with strange, faintly glowing symbols that pulsed like a heartbeat, casting an unsettling light throughout the room. It wasn’t bright, but the soft, otherworldly glow was enough to illuminate their path—and their unease.
Thorne’s hand tightened instinctively around his dagger. His sharp eyes scanned the room, cataloging every detail. The strange markings, the shifting light, the eerie stillness—it all screamed danger. His instincts, honed from years of hunting and surviving, prickled at the base of his skull.
Eren staggered, his steps faltering as he leaned heavily on the shield for support. His face twisted in pain, the gash on his side visibly draining what little energy he had left. “We need to rest,” he said through clenched teeth, each word forced out with effort.
“We can’t stay here long,” Thorne replied sharply, his voice cold and pragmatic. “But we’ll take a moment to regroup and tend to our wounds.”
Jax slumped to the floor, his back pressed against the cold, pulsing wall. His eyes were vacant, staring ahead at nothing. Thorne observed him out of the corner of his eye but made no move to offer comfort. There was no room for weakness here, no time for coddling. Survival demanded focus and strength.
Eren, still leaning against the wall, tried to steady his labored breathing. His brown eyes burned with determination, a fierce resolve shining through the pain that had drained the color from his face. Thorne found himself grudgingly impressed by the boy’s grit, but he forced the thought away. Attachment was a weakness he couldn’t afford. They were allies in a desperate situation, nothing more.
“We need to find a way out of here,” Thorne said, his voice slicing through the oppressive silence. “Take a moment. Catch your breath. But stay sharp. We don’t know what else is waiting for us.”
Jax gave no response, his head resting against the wall, his chest rising and falling unevenly. Eren managed a small nod, though his exhaustion was palpable. Meanwhile, Thorne’s mind worked furiously, scanning the room, dissecting their options, and trying to decipher what was yet to come. He couldn’t let his guard down. Leona’s lifeless form was still fresh in his memory, a brutal reminder of what failure looked like.
Thorne paced along the walls, running his hands over the strange symbols etched into the stone. The faint glow of the markings offered no answers, only deepening his unease. His Cunning Trapper skill scanned for hidden mechanisms or signs, but nothing immediately stood out. There has to be something, he thought, his frustration mounting.
The silence of the room was broken only by the faint sounds of labored breathing.
Then, faintly, Thorne heard it: soft footsteps, measured and impossibly graceful. His body tensed, every instinct screaming at him to stay alert. The sound wasn’t like anything he’d heard from his companions—or from the sentinels. No, this was different. This was deliberate, fluid. Familiar.
He instantly recognized the graceful, elegant gait he hadn’t heard in years.
He froze, his breath hitching as an ache he hadn’t felt in years surged through him, raw and desperate. His heart pounded in his chest as his mind raced, disbelief colliding with fragile hope. He turned slowly, the world around him falling away as a single word tore from his lips, filled with longing.
“Mom!”