Mark was ready this time. He just knew the bastard who stole his axe would return today. He just knew it.
Every fibre of his being was telling him that there was no way the prick could resist. He already had the lines all mapped out. And when the time finally came, he would be ready for revenge.
“Hannah, we went over the plan, right?” Mark snapped at his companion, still not over the fact that it was on her advice that he threw the axe.
The tall girl waved dismissively, “Yeah, yeah, I know the shitty plan like the back of my hand,”
“Derick?” Mark called out to empty air, drawing a couple of confused looks from the gathered pathfinders. Ignoring them, he gazed towards a distant pillar right beside the step.
A shadowy figure stepped out from behind the pillar and did a strange hand gesture, before spinning flamboyantly and disappearing behind the pillar again.
“Every time he does those little dances, I want to kill myself,” Hannah muttered grumpily.
“They aren’t dances, it’s- it's part of his talent. He told me it’s called the way of the ninja or some shit,”
“Right… But why does he need to throw up gang signs every time he does something, Ninja-like?”
“Eh… maybe it’s like a confidence thing? Or it could be his penalty, he gets cool ninja powers but has to look like a child dressing up for Halloween,”
Hannah shivered, “I’m glad my penalty isn’t that embarrassing,”
“Yeah… wait, I thought your penalty was pretty bad… wasn’t it-“
“Nope. Don’t. Say. It.” Hannah spat, stopping Mark from finishing.
“Okay... My bad,”
The pair stood in awkward silence, milling around the busy platform and watching the gathered crowd hawkishly.
“Still… you don’t think she’ll find out, do you?” Mark asked quietly.
“Who? The Prince?”
“Shh, don’t say her name aloud, I don’t want to get reported for talking behind her back,” Mark hissed.
“Damn, what are you? Twelve? She isn’t the boogeyman, she’s a kid just like the rest of us,” Hannah sighed, rolling her eyes at Mark, the big man so afraid of what boiled down to a little girl.
“She’s not like the rest of us, and you know it. Remember when we had that assembly on how to… take a life,” Mark whispered the last part.
Hannah shuddered, rubbing her shoulders as though a cold breeze had just passed through. “Yeah… I remember,”
“Her face when she did it- I mean… it was just so cold, you know? It wasn't like a person, but a robot,”
“I said I remembered, geez, don’t bring that up anymore,” Hannah said angrily.
“Sure, sorry…” Mark looked around, checking no one was listening, “But seriously, you don’t think she’ll find out, do you?”
“How would she find out, unless we told her? The guy only made it past the first step and he’s barely on the rankings. She’s hardly going to notice someone that far below her moving up to rank 700,”
“You’re right,” Mark nodded eagerly like he was hearing exactly what he wanted to hear.
The pair were leaning against one of the massive pillars, on which hung a huge scroll, suspended by what looked like a spear that had been stabbed into the black rock.
For all intents and purposes, it looked like a normal scroll. The parchment was aged and torn slightly at the edges, with splotches of colour that looked like coffee stains spread out along its surface.
It was ancient. It certainly looked ancient, but both Mark and Hannah knew that its appearance was only the beginning.
Legends say that this scroll is as old as time itself. It was there during the first tutorial when the first planets bore life. And it will still be there when the last star is snuffed out. Much like the bridge, it is unknowably old and permanent.
On the scroll, in red letters that almost drip like wet blood, names appear, accompanied by a number.
In first place ranks the Prince – Seventh step
Second ranks Kyle (the Farmer) – sixth step
Other than those two, nobody else had yet passed the fourth step, which is a testament to their sheer excellence.
“You know, I heard a rumour those two cheated on the fourth, fifth and sixth steps,” Hannah muttered.
“Really? I heard those steps are a competition between pathfinders though.” Mark frowned, his father had briefed him on everything up to the seventh step and he wasn’t sure how you would even cheat on those.
“They call those steps The Train, right? Well anyway, since three people have to attempt it at the same time and only one can pass all three stages, the rumours are that those two brought supporters in and had them throw the match. That’s how they climbed up the steps so fast,”
Mark stroked his chin thoughtfully, “It’s definitely possible, but why would they even do that?”
“The titles, duh.”
“Oh right, the first person to pass each step gets a better title, right? I wonder just how many stat points those two have at this point. I mean they’ve been running around doing all those hidden dungeons like crazy,” Mark couldn’t help burning with jealousy. More than anything, he wanted to be out there, levelling up and challenging the dungeon his father had told him about.
But he knew that was short-sighted. If he could get on the Prince's good side now, then she might let him join her clan and if that happened... then his future prospects would be far better than someone with a couple of extra titles.
“Tell me about it, I wouldn’t be surprised if they end up with epic classes even,” Hannah sighed wistfully. She could already see her common class staring her in the face, it would be something boring, like scout or…
The gong thundered and all the listless people gathered on the platform looked like they had been resuscitated. In unison, they grabbed their weapons and started sprinting towards the town, hoping to get even the smallest head start on their peers.
They poured out of the platform in their thousands, an endless stream of people flowing down the cobbled path.
Swimming upstream, was a lone figure, with a hood covering his face. He was quite tall and slender, walking with a slightly hunched back.
Mark squinted, glaring at the approaching figure venomously.
“It’s him,” He grunted, reaching over his back and grabbing the axe a crafter had given him. The handle was rough and splintered, and he could feel the cheap quality of the wood beneath his tight grip.
This axe was nothing compared to… “Where is it!?” Mark shouted. His nemesis carried no weapons.
“Huh?” Hannah grunted.
“Look over there, it’s the guy from yesterday!” Mark spat.
Hannah closed her eyes, sensing that the figure's height and weight were the exact same as the person they had been waiting for. “Shit, that really is him! But he doesn’t have your axe with him…”
“Yeah.” Mark spat loathingly. “I’ll just have to beat it out of him,”
Hannah rolled her eyes, “Sure you will, just make sure not to kill him before you see his face. Once we have that, we can make his life a living hell,”
Mark didn’t even bother replying with words, simply grunting in response. His hands were gripping his new axe so tightly the wood was creaking.
“Hold on,” Hannah grunted, closing her eyes again. “There’s more coming,”
In the distance, another figure appeared, followed by a few more. “It looks like people got fed up getting betrayed by the crafters every time and decided to try their luck here,” Hannah muttered.
“They’re out of luck today if I have anything to say about it,” Mark grumbled, taking off towards the approaching pathfinders.
He ignored the newcomers, zeroing in on his nemesis. “Fancy seeing you here again, we are truly fated-“
Mark never got to finish the line he had been preparing because his nemesis put on an outrageous burst of speed and breezed past him.
All he could do was turn around and watch as they ran towards the wall, moving so fast they were almost a blur.
“Shit,” He grunted, wanting to turn and chase the fleeing figure.
“Mark, wait. Help me stop these guys first!” Hannah shouted, having already begun grappling with a short girl wearing a makeshift balaclava.
“Argh! Fine.” Mark roared, throwing himself at the oncoming deserters. “Derrick better not fuck this up!”
***
Lan ran past the angry man with the axe, not quite hearing what he said. ‘He didn’t say we were fated lovers, did he? Nah, there’s no way,’
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Over the past day, he had gotten used to his increasingly high stats and was able to put them into full effect right now, running so fast his eyes watered.
The wall of the first step zoomed up to meet him, and right as he slowed down so he would crash into it, a figure dressed all in black leapt out of the shadows behind a pillar.
No words were exchanged before the figure threw out its arms, tens of shuriken flying out of their baggy sleeves.
“Shit!” Lan cursed, throwing himself back from the deluge of weaponry and away from the wall.
Giving Lan no time to rest, the figure ran towards him, producing a nun-chuck from within the baggy folds of their dark robe.
Lan didn’t have any weapons on him right now, since the axe was too heavy to lug about everywhere he went. ‘I really should have grabbed a weapon from one of the crafters,’
All he had in his robe was a mug he had gotten from one of the clans and a few pens with the logos of different clans and sects on them.
He grabbed the mug, ‘Talent, do your thing,’ he prayed, pulling it out of the pocket of his robe and thrusting it out towards the ninja.
The ninja froze, still spinning the nun-chuck. “Are you serious?” They croaked, their voice hoarse and raspy.
“Deadly,” Lan shot back, running towards the stunned ninja holding the mug up high as a distraction.
Concealed in the sleeve of his other hand was a pen that he was hoping would do some damage.
Making a big show of bringing the mug down like a hammer, Lan jabbed out with the pen, stabbing the ninja in the thigh.
“Ah!” The ninja cursed, jumping back. “You tricked me!”
“Yeah… and?” Lan shouted, charging towards the reeling ninja.
“This was supposed to be an honourable duel between- fuck! Stop hitting me with that mug!” The ninja swore, lashing out with his nun-chuck.
The steel nun-chuck made a violent whoosh as it flew towards the side of Lan’s head, and he just barely had time to duck and roll under the strike, before another blow was aimed at his back.
He desperately lunged at the wall, but the ninja was ready for that, throwing a kunai into the back of Lan’s hand.
Gritting his teeth, Lan's fingers grazed against the wall and the notification sounded.
Alert: The second step is at 46/100 capacity. Join [Y/N]
“Yes!” Lan shouted, sighing in relief as his body melted into the wall, flowing into the ever-changing carvings like ink onto paper.
“Bastard!” The ninja roared.
“Derrick! Why the fuck did you let him get away?!” Mark bellowed like a wounded animal.
“Guys, help me!” Hannah screamed, getting overwhelmed by the almost ten assailants.
Muttering about honour and pride, Derrick ran over to help his companions fend off the rest of the deserters. He wasn’t about to get on the Prince’s bad side by letting any more of them in.
‘But I will have my revenge,’ He swore. Holding his throbbing leg where the pen had stabbed him.
***
Welcome! Challenger, your fate is your own, and the second step is yours to overcome.
Already expecting the booming voice, Lan wasn’t as bothered by its insane volume, instead concentrating on what it would say next.
Long ago, the first giant was born in the depths of the earth. She travelled for many years in the dark, searching for a way to escape the prison she was born into. And one day, she found it.
Lan looked up; he was inside a deep crater that seemed to extend up into the sky forever. The sides of the crater glowed red from the heat and beneath them, magma boiled and rumbled, containing all the fury of the earth.
He was standing on a rocky ledge that jutted out over the magma, the heat from the glowing walls washing over him in waves.
Climb to the summit and escape as she once did, the exit lies there, but so do more trials. The ancestor of the giant's actions displeased the great mother Gaia.
“More trials my ass!” Lan spat, “I bet that climbing out of this volcano is the first difficulty and then there’ll be even more horrible stuff to come,”
“But… But if I really want to make a change to the bridge, I need to be strong enough to do that. Since I'm already at a disadvantage, knowing so little. I need to milk every opportunity for all its worth.” Lan assured himself.
He reached out tentatively and touched the rock of the volcano wall, “Holy shit that’s hot!” He yelped, his hand made an uncomfortable sizzling sound when it and the wall had connected.
‘If only I had gloves or something like that,’ Lan wished. ‘I guess I’ll have to make do,’
Grabbing the ends of his sleeves, he ripped the arm of his robe off, tying the fabric around his hand as a cover. ‘At the very least, my palms won’t be burned, although my fingerprints will probably be gone by the time I reach the top,’ Lan thought morosely.
“Hey, no more criminal record,”
He grabbed onto the wall again, suppressing a scream as his fingers instantly began to smoke. It was like he was holding onto red hot coals, only he couldn’t let go or he would die.
With a grunt, he swung his leg up and began to climb, thanking both his increased endurance and strength for the ability to lift himself and persevere through the pain.
The climbing was hard, agony even, but perhaps the most difficult part was the monotony. His endless, repetitive actions were like a stick that beat against his psyche.
He breathed in, choking on the fumes from the volcano. His head felt light and airy like it used to when he breathed in too much spray paint.
His hands were balls of fire, spreading searing waves of pain throughout his body. And he had long realised that the key to passing this was speed.
Glancing back, he noticed that the ledge he had started on was gone. Magma had bubbled up, swallowing the ledge as it rose towards the surface.
‘It’s going to erupt!’ Lan screamed internally, increasing his climbing speed by a notch.
The wall of the volcano was steep, but there were plenty of grooves and notches, wounds left there by past explosions for him to use as handholds.
‘The further I climb, the cooler the wall gets, but… my hands are… numb’ Lan was gritting his teeth so hard they nearly cracked.
It felt exactly like how frostbite felt, only in reverse. His hands were numb and distant like he was trying to move somebody else’s body.
They scrabbled feebly at the rock wall, desperately grasping for purchase and it was only through sheer willpower that Lan managed to hold on, outrunning the rapidly rising magma beneath him.
The glare from the sun was getting closer now and he could almost taste the air getting fresher and less sulphurous.
Along with the fresher air, his head cleared up and he soldiered on, finishing the last push and throwing himself over the lip of the volcano’s crater.
He sighed in relief, gulping in lung-fulls of fresh air as he gasped like a fish out of water.
Below him, the volcano sloped down towards the sea, where waves of lava crashed against waves of water, forming new land.
When the ancestor made it this far and felt the light of the sun on her back, she wept tears both of joy and sadness that she had been deprived of this all her life. But her journey was not over yet. Soon, the volcano would erupt.
“I hate you!” Lan yelled into the void.
His hands and feet were numb and clumsy, he couldn’t even feel them anymore. But the rest of his body was in enough pain to make up for their absence, screaming at him to just lie down and rest.
But the longer he waited on the cusp of the mountain, the hotter it became. The temperature out on the side of the volcano was skyrocketing and jets of lava were blasting out of vents in the side of the rock, running in rivers towards the sea.
“I’ve got to move!” Lan groaned, ignoring the protests of his body and standing on shaky legs.
He took a step forwards, and almost collapsed, his feet crying out in pain once again.
Growling in pain, he took another step and then another, repeating the gruelling process as he stumbled down the side of the volcano, feeling the temperature rising all the while.
Jets of superheated steam exploded out of the ground at unpredictable intervals and only sheer luck kept Lan from being boiled alive. ‘I suppose my luck stat is pretty high though,’
He kept walking, but his progress was quickly impeded by violent tremors that ran through the ground.
The volcano seemed to creak and groan, expanding and contracting under the immense pressure of the magma that had built up within its core.
The land itself felt like it was breathing, expanding out in certain places before a wave of lava would explode out, relieving some of the built-up pressure.
Lan’s robe had long been ruined from soot and sweat, so he tore it off. Wrapping a strip around his mouth to try and prevent some of the fumes from getting in.
‘I’m glad the tutorial gives me underwear every time I respawn,’ he thought gratefully, as he stumbled down the side of the volcano as close to naked as possible.
As he was picking his way around a river of lava, a molten fragment of rock whistled past his head, burying itself a metre deep in the ground.
Lan peered into the crater, wincing as he saw the smouldering rock that glowed dark red.
Slowly, he looked up, seeing a cloud of ash billowing out from the top of the volcano.
And then the whole world shook, like Gaia herself was letting her fury be known.
The mouth of the volcano crumbled and then collapsed in on itself before all hell broke loose.
An ear-rending explosion split the sky, as fire and rock began to rain down the earth’s furious judgment.
Gaia would not accept her child leaving the earth where she was born. So, in her fury, the mother of monsters sought to kill her firstborn.
“Shut the hell up!” Lan coughed weakly when he tried to yell, noxious fumes had scorched the back of his throat.
He was near the ocean now, running for all he was worth as burning boulders rolled down the side of the mountain towards him.
From the sky, tiny meteorites crashed into the side of the volcano, dashing against the rock around Lan’s feet. All it would take was one stray piece of debris and he would be dead.
A river of lava blocked his way, but he didn’t have time to go around it. Behind him an ocean of blistering flames deluged from the broken volcano, racing down towards him at breathtaking speeds.
Lan spotted a piece of rock floating in the middle of the lava and jumped, barely skipping past a bubble of fire that popped, spraying liquid death onto the ground where he had just been.
He landed on the floating rock, wobbling but managing to find his balance.
His heart stopped; the rock was drifting away from the shore. When he landed on it, the rock had sped up, plunging down the river towards what looked like a waterfall, but glowed red.
Cursing his bad luck, Lan clenched his teeth, ignoring the pain, ignoring his light head, his numb hands, and his burning feet.
He pushed it all aside and focused on the jump he was going to have to make.
‘At the edge of the lavafall, there’s a rock that juts out. I can push off that and land on…’ Lan stopped helplessly.
There was nowhere else to land.
The river of lava ran into the sea and before him, there was only ocean. Behind him… he turned around in horror, seeing that something was coming down the side of the volcano.
It looked like an avalanche but was made of ash and burning rock. Moving at unbelievable speeds down the side of the volcano, far faster than even Lan could run.
“Shit!” Lan cursed, taking off his shoe and using it as a paddle to push his floating rock towards the edge of the lava fall. His only hope was to hide underwater, then maybe he wouldn’t be cremated by what was coming.
Right as the rock was tipping over the edge, Lan grunted, jumping towards the ledge that jutted out beside the lavafall.
The rock was searing hot, but he was used to it by now. Ignoring the agony in his now barefoot, he leapt off the side of the cliff.
He plunged towards the waiting sea, flaming meteorites peppering the water all around him.
The thunderous rumble of the debris pouring down the mountain sounded from right behind him. And a wave of heat washed over his back as he dove into the waiting sea.
Without pause to marvel at how cool the water felt against his skin, or how quiet the sea was compared to the mountain, Lan dove down.
Behind him, tonnes of ash and flaming rock crashed into the sea, creating an island of sorts on the surface of the water.
The collected debris quickly began to block off the light of the sun, smothering everything beneath the water’s surface.
Lan quickly realised his mistake, desperately swimming up to the surface, his lungs screaming for air.
But salvation only got further away. The lava and debris kept blocking his path to the air, trapping him beneath the waves.
“I’m going to make it…” Lan’s head felt faint, his thoughts distant and immaterial.
“I’m…” His arms lost strength, his lungs gave out and water rushed in.
“I…”
Death has occurred, completion of the trial (81%) But fear not, only 33% was required to pass. You have done well, now sleep.
‘Fuck you,’ was Lan’s final thought before the darkness grabbed him, whisking him away into the unknown.
***
The foundations
Thorn reached up, grasping the red light delicately and guiding it to the correct plot. He truly did feel like a Shepherd, guiding lost souls to their rightful place.
From the way the light glowed, its intensity and its shade of red, he could tell many things about the life they had lived, or specifically, how they had died.
“This one died in too much pain…” He muttered sadly, his lonely voice echoing out across the endless plane.
“How can such suffering be worth it? I don’t understand,”
The more souls he ferried, the more desperate he became to learn more about people. He wanted to see what their lives were like, he wanted to see what was worth dying for.
“Maybe someday, but for now, rest little one,”
Thorn laid the soul gently into its plot, pausing as his gaze swept over the tombstone. There was no name on this stone, only an empty spot where one should have been.
“Interesting… I look forward to learning more about you, the nameless one,” Thorn muttered, drifting back up into the sky where more red lights flickered listlessly, waiting to be brought home.