*Place: Death's Toll—a mountain where only the strongest can survive.*

Far away from the High Cliffs where Moxie was training with Liza, another figure was making his way up a far more treacherous path. The mountain known as Death’s Toll was a place of nightmares—a desolate peak where the very air seemed to weigh heavy with the souls of the lost. Only the most resilient, the most unyielding, could survive here, and even they would find themselves tested to the brink of their sanity.

And it was here that GMK—now known as Insanity—had come, driven by a purpose that bordered on obsession.

His mind was a maze of chaotic thoughts, memories twisted and distorted by years of torment and betrayal. The GMK who had once been a skilled warrior was gone, replaced by a being fueled by madness and the insatiable urge to become stronger—stronger than those who had wronged him, stronger than the gods themselves.

Insanity trudged up the steep incline, his breath coming in ragged gasps, the biting cold searing his lungs. Every step was a battle against the mountain’s oppressive weight, but he welcomed the challenge. The pain reminded him that he was still alive, that he still had a purpose.

As he climbed higher, the landscape around him grew more surreal. The sky above was a deep, unnatural shade of crimson, and the ground beneath his feet was cracked and barren, as if the mountain itself were on the brink of collapse. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and the wind carried with it the faint echoes of voices—whispers of the damned that clawed at Insanity’s mind.

But he paid them no heed. His focus was singular, his goal clear. At the peak of this mountain lay the power he sought, a force that would push him beyond the limits of mortality. A power that could finally allow him to break free from the chains of his past and take control of his destiny.

Insanity paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he spotted a figure in the distance—a shadowy form barely discernible against the crimson sky. His heart quickened, not out of fear, but anticipation. He knew that this mountain was not uninhabited. There were others here, beings drawn to Death’s Toll for the same reason he was—to test their strength, to prove themselves worthy of the power that lay at its peak.

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But Insanity was not like them. He was not here to prove himself; he was here to take what was his by right.

With renewed determination, Insanity pressed on, closing the distance between himself and the shadowy figure. As he drew closer, the figure came into focus—a towering beast, its body covered in jagged, black scales, its eyes glowing with an eerie light. It let out a low growl as Insanity approached, its claws digging into the ground as if daring him to make the first move.

Insanity did not hesitate. With a burst of speed, he lunged at the creature, his weapon—a twisted, bloodstained blade—slashing through the air. The beast roared in response, its massive claws swiping at Insanity with deadly precision. But Insanity was faster, his movements almost too quick to follow. He ducked under the creature’s attack, his blade cutting deep into its side.

The beast howled in pain, but Insanity did not relent. He struck again and again, his blade a blur of motion as it tore through flesh and bone. Blood sprayed across the ground, but Insanity’s expression remained cold and unfeeling. To him, this was nothing more than a test—a stepping stone on his path to ultimate power.

Finally, with one final, brutal strike, Insanity drove his blade into the creature’s heart. The beast let out a final, pained cry before collapsing to the ground, its body twitching in its death throes.

Insanity stood over the fallen creature, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. He wiped the blood from his blade, his eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of more challengers. But the mountain was silent once more, the only sound the howling of the wind and the faint whispers of the damned.

With a satisfied grunt, Insanity continued his ascent. The peak of Death’s Toll was close now—he could feel it. And with it, the power he sought was within his grasp.

As he climbed higher, the air grew colder, the wind more fierce. But Insanity welcomed the challenge. He had come too far to turn back now. The mountain would not break him. He would reach the peak, and when he did, he would claim the power that awaited him.

And then… then he would make them all pay.

The thought brought a twisted smile to his lips as he pushed onward, his resolve unshakable. Insanity had come to Death’s Toll seeking power, and he would not leave without it. No matter the cost.