The golden fog enveloped Clo, sending a chill across his body. His toes felt especially cold, as he had long since discarded his boots. It wasn’t enough to hurt, but it was enough to send a shiver through his legs. He raised his arm to push away the fog from his face, only to remember that he couldn’t. He attempted to wave an arm that just wasn’t there anymore. One arm was not enough to help either. Thankfully, the fog wasn’t as deep as it felt, and it cleared up suddenly. The lack of fog in the room made it feel like he had walked through a literal door, rather than some creation of mist.

He didn’t give his surroundings much more than a perfunctory glance, as his attention was drawn to the house-sized monster at the center of it. What he did take note of was the tightness. This room wasn’t nearly as large as the previous ones. The monster took up nearly half the room by itself, and even he felt more than a little awed by the sight.

The creature at the center of the room was intimidating because of more than just its size. It had an enormous rotund shell that covered its back completely. Its shell was segmented like a soccer ball, and each of those segments had a large spike at the center of it. Concentric lines along the sides of the spikes made them seem a little like drills. While he never really had the opportunity for games or cartoons, he could guess what they did. That knowledge didn’t make him any less wary. Each spike was the size of his torso, and he could vaguely imagine them tearing through his chest.

He pushed aside those thoughts and looked for the creature’s head. It was in a way, a turtle. One clearly twisted to be some kind of boss monster. The fins protruding from some sockets in the shell helped him identify it. It also meant that the thing probably couldn’t move. This room, this fight, was made easier. He saw its head and watched as the creature yawned. Its head was not very threatening as it looked like a normal turtle. A roundish nose and mouth didn’t really scream monster. However, the rows of sharp teeth in its mouth made that dull appearance far more sinister.

That sight should’ve been threatening, but Clo found it reassuring. It was a vulnerability and one that he needed in order to fight. His swords probably wouldn’t let him cut through the shell, and he wasn’t sure if his other preparation would be good enough. Either way, he had to act now, before the creature thought to retreat into its shell.

He broke into a sprint, immediately pushing aside anything else to exploit this start. It only took a few seconds to close the distance, and he wouldn’t let himself hesitate. The turtle noticed him a fraction too late. Clo began his downward swing early, letting his blade form in his good hand as he brought the sword down. He aimed for a clean cut along the base of the creature’s neck, planning to end the fight before it could even begin. Others might have given the creature a second to react, but he wouldn’t give it any chance.

As with everything that met the sharp end of his sword, the creature’s neck cut like butter. The monster’s head was about as big as he was, and its neck was as thick as his torso. That didn’t stop his sword from slicing through the creature’s red-grey scales with ease, but he had made a mistake. The monster reacted and retracted its head back quickly. It moved suddenly and quickly, jerking his sword into its shell, which of course caused his sword to shatter like thin ice. The sudden jerk made him step back, but Clo didn’t let up. He formed another blade, catching it out of the air, and spinning on one foot to slice through the front of the creature’s face. He was too slow though, and a shell of some kind had filled the gap in its shell. His sword smashed into pieces against the shell.

A whirling sound from Clo’s left made him dive backward. He acted on instinct rather than actually turning to see what was making the noise. His back slid against the grass, and he got to see an enormous spike pass over his head. Juniper had reacted too, and a shield of layered leaves attempted to block the spike. The shield didn’t even slow it, and it flew past him faster than an arrow. The spike vanished as it cut through the hedge. The same hedge that managed to stop his sword. Clo’s eyes traced the spike back, and he saw an empty segment on the left side of the creature’s shell. Considering where it had come from, it meant that the creature could control the projectile to a limited degree. He processed all this while rising to his feet.

His mind felt slow compared to his instincts. Instincts that had come from his trial and that he had honed over the past few months. Those were the instincts he trusted, and they told him to run headlong into danger. He didn’t run for the monster’s head but to its side. He moved closer to the monster, running toward the shell and diving to the ground as he saw another spike start to rotate. Rolling like a log he came to a stop, just beneath the whirling spike.

One…Two…Three…Four…

Counting the seconds in his head, he watched as the projectile flew out of the shell. Then he traced the spike’s path and saw it turn toward him. It twisted around in a wide arc but didn’t, or maybe couldn’t, make a full 180. It crashed into the floor to his side, missing him by a wide margin. It dug into the grass and dirt like an actual drill. It vanished into the floor leaving a wide hole in the ground. Clo turned toward the segment where the spike had come from, hoping that there would be a hole leading to more vulnerable flesh now.

No, of course, it wasn’t going to be that easy. A new spike was already beginning to rise and replace the previous. It was almost as if the creature had layers of them within its shell and was replacing them like teeth. That was going to make this more annoying. It was probably strange to think of a life-or-death fight as annoying, but he knew that death here wasn’t real. The pain was real, but the only consequence of death would be losing, and he didn’t like that idea.

Clo pressed up against the shell and rose slowly. There was enough space between the spikes that he could somewhat stand while still avoiding them, although he had to turn his body to the side to do it. His shoulder pushed against the shell, and it felt like pushing against concrete. It wasn’t as smooth as it looked, instead, it was coarse and scratched what was left of his arms. He looked at the spike next to him and saw a thin line outlining the thing. The spikes weren’t perfectly connected to the shell, which made sense considering how replaceable they were. That gap wasn’t exploitable by his sword, but he did bring something that might work.

He stared at the enormous shell, and it felt even larger than it had seemed earlier. However, he had a plan now and sucked in a breath. His knees bent, and he jumped. He reached for two of the spikes above him, only to find a grip on one. His stump waved about as his body tried to use something that wasn’t there anymore. Clo didn’t focus on the missing arm and worked with what he could. He had done some more pointed testing with his vault gift after talking to the others about their own abilities. There were a lot of very public testing methods to figure out the limitations of a gift. Those same tests showed him some of the versatility he hadn’t been using too.

His vault opened behind him, a small opening that could barely let something out. That was enough, and black liquid began pouring out. He couldn’t make the release forceful, but a gentle stream was exactly what he needed. The liquid fell onto the monster’s shell and seeped in between whatever crevices it could find. Clo moved, continuing to climb the creature as best as he could manage. It was hard, harder than almost anything he had done before. With only one arm, he had to use his legs and back to make any progress. He had to swing on each spike to even get anywhere. It felt a little too much like some kind of climbing exercise or game. Before long, he felt the strain in his legs. He had to jump a lot, and that burden was draining him far too quickly.

Worse than the aches in his muscles were the spikes. A sudden twist from the spike he was holding made him jerk back. He abandoned the handhold quickly as he could, but he still felt a stinging pain in his palms. The spikes didn’t start slowly; they just started with a burst of speed that was enough to tear some of the skin from his fingers. He jumped further and glanced down. He hadn’t made it very far, maybe halfway up the shell at best. However, the fall seemed much more intimidating from where he was. He ignored the slight tingling in his stomach and jumped sideways. He stretched on one leg and was glad for the lack of boots this time. The bottom of a shoe wouldn’t be able to give him the same grip as his toes did.

He continued to move like that, making his way toward the monster’s head. As he prepared to make his next jump, the spike he was using to support his right leg spun. It twisted his leg wide, and he started to fall forward. Pain ran up his leg.

Ignore it. Gritting his teeth, he let the words bounce in his own head. He pulled as hard as he could with his remaining arm and managed to barely throw himself forward on it. The muscles on his arm bulged as he tried desperately to maintain his grip.

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He tumbled forward, landing on a spike and sliding down it. He slipped, his hands catching on to a black liquid. Shit. He slid backward and tumbled down the shell, his head thumped against the spike. For a moment, his vision went black, but another impact brought him back an instant later. He hit the ground awkwardly, his leg striking the ground at an awkward angle. More pain spread through his body like poison. His vision blurred, and he could taste blood. Swallowing, he dragged himself to his feet. He slid toward the front of the turtle. Luckily, he wasn’t that far.

He dumped the tiny bit of fluid left in his vault over the monster’s head. Sweat, or was it blood, ran down the back of his neck. His vision was blurry, but his mind felt sharp. Somehow, despite everything, his mind felt clear. The last drops of the black liquid fell slowly. They sounded like gentle raindrops as they fell against the impenetrable shell. He watched as some of the liquid managed to seep in between the lines of that shell. He wasn’t dumb enough to wait and dug around in his pocket.

He pulled out a small cardboard box. It was a matchbox. An object that was almost universally recommended and yet ignored. Many, many trial takers would take lighters like celebrities sponsored, but the Clo had seen that the majority of real fighters had recommended these. Sliding out the inner part of the box, Clo grabbed a match. He didn’t hesitate to strike it against the side of the box and toss it toward the creature.

The fire as he expected grew quickly. In his dazed state, he hadn’t accounted for the oil that had stained his shirt when he fell to also catch. The fire burst from where the match struck, igniting the same liquid on his own clothes. Clo reacted quickly, pulling his jacket off and throwing it forward. The process wasn’t clean, and it left his hands and chest with burns and blisters. The pain was growing worse, and he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He let out an agonized groan, while reaching for the red bottle he had grabbed earlier. He wasn’t exactly sure how it worked, but he didn’t think he could keep the drink down. The pain from the burns felt like it was twisting his guts. He still popped off the cork with his thumb and took a large sip of the red liquid though. He managed to get down nearly half the bottle before coughing. The rest of the bottle he dumped over his body.

It worked wonders. His mind cleared, and he realized just how muddled it had been. It hadn’t sharpened from the pain or danger. It had only felt like that because he wasn’t thinking properly. His mind had hyper-focused on his task, far beyond what he would normally do. This potion had brought him real clarity. His blurry vision faded, and the pains and aches across his body seemed to vanish. His missing arm stayed missing.

He only had a moment to bask in the healing, as an ear-piercing roar shook him. The turtle thing had peaked its head out of its shell again. The fires hadn’t died quickly. What he had used wasn’t any mundane oil and the roaring fire was proof of that. His body had been drenched in sweat and blood a moment again, but now it felt dry as waves of heat washed over him. Clo could’ve backed away, but the turtle couldn’t. Its fins moved in a desperate kind of way, only barely managing to drag the enormous creature forward.

Clo took a quick step forward, raising his hand and summoning his blade in the process. Bending his front leg slightly, he brought his blade down in a quick smooth stroke, as if he were holding an executioner’s axe. This time he didn’t aim for the base of the creature’s neck, and the edge of his blade struck the creature just behind its eyes. His sword slid through the monster, ending its life in an instant.

Unlike the other monsters he had fought so far, this creature exploded in a burst of fog when it died. It happened so suddenly that he almost fell forward with his wing. The fog pushed past him in a rush. It sounded like a storm as it flowed past his ears. As the fog cleared, it left three things behind. Clo stared at them and smiled.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

Cain P.O.V

Cain wasn’t sure what to make of this trial. It hadn’t been particularly difficult, considering that they could just rely on Billy for the majority of the rooms. After that first room with the wolves, they had come up with a much better strategy. Better, since it mostly involved Cain just sitting around and healing everyone else afterward. They had even considered having him wait in the previous room but decided it would be better to have him nearby. A part of Cain commented that this strategy was cowardly.

As he strolled into the next room, he couldn’t help but feel like it was deserved. He was a coward and was frankly just forcing a smile on his face. Training had been one thing, but he was surprised by how dangerous this all felt. He liked games, even VR ones, but this was a bit beyond even that. It hurt when things hit him, and people still bled and screamed like they were real.

The sounds of shouts and fighting in the distance made him raise his head. When had his gaze fallen so much? He looked up and saw Billy tearing the head off a thin snake-like creature. Cain hadn’t known what to expect from the really highly-ranked people, but this felt unfair. It just made everything really easy. The worst kind of injuries Billy got were scratches. Ashley and Joey hadn’t faired as well. Not they had any of those injuries anymore. Cain had been able to heal them, although they had needed to stop several times to do it.

Cain though, hadn’t even gotten hurt since that first room. Now that they were somewhat prepared for each room, it was easy for the others to protect him. Not that he needed it. At least that was what he told himself. The reality was a little different, not that he really wanted to admit it. However, the sweat that slid down his back, and the somewhat rapid breaths revealed just how scared he was. It wasn’t like he minded fighting, rather it was the idea that he might be killed that really bothered him. Even if he knew that dying here wasn’t real, it was still something he didn’t want to experience. And everything here still hurt.

He was more than a little impressed to see Billy shrug off cuts and bruises like they weren’t even there. He had seen Clo do the same thing, but he hadn’t really realized just how much effort that must take. Was that something that came with high fortitude, or was it just who they were? Cain hoped for the former but wasn’t sure that was how that worked. His thoughts were interrupted as Billy killed the last monster.

Cain jogged up to him and tapped him on the back. He didn’t need more than a little healing, and a simple touch was enough to fix up his cuts and bruises.

“Get anything interesting?”

Billy shook his head.

“Not this time, and thanks.”

Billy smiled with his response. In fact, Cain noticed that Billy basically always smiled. Cain shrugged since healing was the only thing, he was good for anyways. He definitely didn’t feel like he deserved any gratitude. His hand went instinctively to the new watch on his wrist. They had each gotten at least one item thus far, and this was his loot. It was a watch in that it told the time, but it was the other effect that he was more interested in. Not that it would help him in a fight. It was a lie detector. It wasn’t perfect, that much had been obvious from the description, but he still liked it. It would vibrate when someone told a blatant lie around him. That was the gimmick. There wouldn’t be any reaction to half-truths, and he was sure there would be other ways around it. That didn’t stop it from vibrating now though.

Billy had just lied. He had gained something and was keeping it to himself. Cain could push the issue, but Billy was a lot bigger and stronger than him. Yeah, that probably wasn’t the best idea. Instead, Cain just gave an awkward and fake smile and replied with an equally fake enthusiasm.

“Yeah, are you good to go?”

Billy nodded happily and slapped Cian on the back.

“I’m always good. Doubly so, with you here.”

Cain felt that slap but managed to keep his expression unchanged. He curled his toes as tightly as he could though. Thankfully, he didn’t need to try and come up with a response through the pain, since Billy stormed forward confident as ever.

Cain followed behind with Ashley and Joey, who had both grown a little more reserved around Billy. It wasn’t like Billy had been particularly mean or rude, but he kind of just demanded authority with his presence. Billy acted as if they would follow him blindly and leaned on his strength and size to make it happen. He found himself wishing he had his usual team.

Cain would never describe Clo as having a sunny disposition, but he wasn’t mean or bossy. He was direct to the point of rudeness at times, but Clo didn’t rely on anything physical to lead. In fact, he never really said or did anything mean or imposing. It was almost as if he had just unconsciously become the leader. Sabrina and Maya would probably say the same too. Billy, on the other hand, felt more like a bully who didn’t realize what he was doing. And he didn’t seem like the type to learn either.

So, Cain kept his mouth shut and walked through the next entrance wishing for his old teammates. That feeling grew as he saw another kid that reminded Cain of a bully. A green mohawk and a biker jacket singled out the kid more than any name could. Jake walked through an archway opposite them. he was alone though. Cain slowly came to a halt, but the others kept walking. Billy walked up to Jake, and for once Cain didn’t see a smile on his face. Billy spoke, his voice barely hiding his ire.

“This is the ugliest monster I’ve seen so far.”

Of course, they would hate one another. Cain’s luck was never particularly good, but this felt spiteful. What had he done to deserve this? Cain grumbled silently as Jake responded to the jibe.

“Funny, your mother almost said the same thing last night. Though she didn’t use that adjective.”

Jake smirked but no one else did. The insult was just in poor taste, though Billy didn’t seem to get it right away. Jake seemed like he was about to say something else, but Billy figured it out and reacted first. His fist swung up far faster than it had when fighting the monsters before. It struck Jake solidly, Billy’s knuckles landed flatly against Jake’s cheek with enough force to lift him off the ground. Cain had read and heard people describe a hit as having a ‘resounding crack’, but this was the first time that he had experienced that sound. And just like that, a fight started.