Screams filled every corner of the chamber.

One of the skeletons wretched its sword out of someone’s neck, the blood dripping down the length of the blade and seeping into the ground. It’s purple flame like eyes focused on him and it ran forward, weapon poised for a stab.

The heat within his chest intensified.

Sam ducked. The sword dug into the wall then stopped, stuck. He scrambled away from the skeleton as his heart hammered away, thoughts running a hundred miles an hour.

Doors.

At one point or another several doors made of pure white energy appeared, one centered along each wall. People pushed and shoved others, desperate to escape the sudden bloodbath. Those who tripped in their panic were trampled on by their fellow man or cut down by the skeletons. Either way, their mistake meant death.

Sam narrowly avoided wild slashes and grabs from the countless skeletons, kicking off of corpses without hesitation.

Any mistake here meant death.

Some, stupid or brave, snatched up a sword of their own and stood their ground. From time to time they’d manage to cut down a skeleton, the bones collapsing back into motionless piles, but sheer numbers inevitably overwhelmed them, blades skewering them from multiple angles.

He drew closer to one of the doors, the blinding white light of the doorway spurring on what little hope he had. If he could just get there then-

A hand seized his wrist, the grip tight enough to stop him in his tracks.

“H-Help me!” Begged a young woman, no older than himself, her ponytail held by a skeleton. Sam shook her off and ran, biting his lip as he tried to deafen himself to the horrid screams that followed. What could he, some nobody who barely understood what was going on, do for her?

Just a few more steps. Just a few more steps and he’d be free of this chaos.

As the person ahead of him entered the door the bright light vanished, old stones left in place of the doorway.

‘Fuck!’ Sam swore, already throwing himself away from an approaching blade. Why the hell did the door disappear? Was there a limit to how many people could go through? Screw it, the answers to those questions didn’t matter. As long as he got to one of the other doors he’d be fine.

The bright light from two of the other doors vanished. The last one……on the opposite side of the chamber full of bloodthirsty skeletons. Fuck his luck.

The skeletons closed in from every direction and he backed away until he hit a wall.

Was this how he died? Ripped away from the comfy life he worked so hard to build without ever seeing the fruits of his labor? Because someone else decided it? Because he was a little unlucky?

The heat in his chest grew so strong it began to smother him. His vision blurred. His labored breaths somehow became more erratic. The beat of his heart brought nothing but pain.

This heat. He had to get rid of it.

The skeletons pulled back their swords.

The smothering heat vanished.

The blades shot forward.

The heat returned with a vengeance, consuming Sam entirely and exploding from his body in a wave of furious orange flames, melting the approaching blades and reducing their wielders to ash. The flames returned, the majority coalescing before him into a sword while trace amounts circled around his feet.

「Inherent Trait Formed: Armaments of The Soul」

「Description: Through use of aura you are able to form basic weapons. They aren’t anything special though they do appear to be a rather sturdy. What does that say about your soul?」

Sam ignored the window, seizing the sword’s jet black handle, and attempting to block the blades of the incoming skeletons, the sudden burst of power doing nothing to deter their relentless assault. The clumsy attempts spared him fatal wounds, the rusty blades nicking his thighs and shoulders. At the same time the crimson flames at his feet shot forward of their own volition, eagerly consuming his attackers and buying him a few moments to breath.

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Not that he needed to.

He felt alive.

That same smothering heat now acted as a invigorating warmth, flowing from his heart to his lungs, to his arms, to his legs, even to his fingers and toes. It wasn’t much but there was a strength powering his body that had nothing to do with his muscles.

He had a chance. A real chance at survival.

Sam took a step forward and swung. The skeletons didn’t bother with defense, all vying for his life even if meant trading their own. His silver blade sliced through bone like a hot knife to butter. Meanwhile, the flames at his feet raced out and melted the approaching blades.

More blades came.

He retreated and switched tactics.

Even with this strange power, reckless decisions would surely result in a swift death. Rushing the door through this massive horde presented too much of a risk; he could barely make out the light of the final door through their bones. Suicidal as it sounded, he needed to shore up a defense and hope this energy lasted long enough for him to whittle their numbers down to something manageable, then make an escape.

Of course, that all assumed there wasn’t a time limit or some other condition on the damn door.

Sam just barely ducked beneath a slash and raced towards a corner. Now wasn’t the time to think. Nothing mattered if they cut him down.

With his back to the corner and the skeletons forced to come at him in smaller numbers Sam began a desperate last stand.

Every skeleton he took down was a step towards survival. Every swing contained his desire, his need, to survive. But that alone wasn’t enough to change reality.

Any breath could be his last.

Sweat dripped down his face, his clumsy swings became increasingly sluggish, and the flames at his feet waned. The shallow cuts that marked him grew in number, the blood loss beginning to take a toll of its own.

Should he try for the door now or should he try to take down more of them and increase his chance of escape? Before he could come to a decision, fragmented bones pierced through the group of skeletons baring down upon him.

He wasn’t alone.

A raven-haired woman sliced her way through the army with a pair of pristine blades. It took less than a moment for him to realize they were in completely different leagues. She made expert use of the walls and ceiling, bounding off of them with such speed that he could barely keep track of her. And the way she swung her weapons; the attacks flowed into each other, no momentum lost between them.

Unlike him, backed into a corner and desperately clinging to life, that woman fought on her own terms.

Someone like that could’ve left at any moment. Was she staying behind to help lingering survivors?

The woman herself dashed those hopes entirely.

She tore through a vast majority of the skeletal army until they were dust and instead of helping with the group focused on him, she took up a spot beside the shinning doorway, her blade dissipating into dark green wisps. Her face remained blank as she watched him, her narrow amber eyes bearing no trace of emotion.

Dammit. He wouldn’t risk his life for a stranger either but its obvious this whole thing amounted to nothing more than a chore to her. Was it too much to hope for a bit of assistance?

Intentional or not, her decimation of the skeletons left far fewer for him to deal with.

It took every last bit of strength in Sam to weather the skeletons that remained. With his final slash he collapsed to a knee, held up only by his sword.

「Alert 」

「Quest: The Culling」

「Bonus Objective Completed: Destroy at least a quarter of the relentless undead.」

「Reward: 3 Divinity Points」

「Alert」

「New Title Earned: Desperate Survivor」

「Description: You lack skill and strength but through sheer force of will and perhaps a little luck you’ve manage to survive harrowing circumstance. Go forth and keep struggling!」

「Alert」

「New Title Earned: Second Fiddle」

「Description: You’re officially the second person in your trial to earn a taste of divinity. Remember, first place is first for a reason; stay in your lane.」

「Alert」

「New Trait Formed: Trashy Swordsmanship」

「Description: You’ve proven that you can use a sword. Barely. Anyone with a modicum of skill could best you but you should be able to fend off mindless beasts. Surely that counts for something. 」

More windows, more terms, more questions. For now they’d have to go on the back burner. There wasn’t a moment to be wasted.

Sam forced himself to a shaky stand despite the aching protests of his body. The sword in his hand dispersed into crimson flames, recombined with the embers licking his feet and washed over him. The invigorating warmth that flowed through him flared up, his myriad of wounds closing.

This energy, aura according to all the windows, would be his saving grace in this mess. Hopefully it’s appearance wasn’t a fluke.

He moved to join the still waiting woman but froze mid-step.

Corpse after corpse blocked his path. It was one thing to ignore them while adrenaline pumped through his veins and death only a swing away. He could barely stomach the gruesome scene. Severed limbs, headless bodies, a sickening amount of spilled blood.

The bitter smell of what he could only describe as metal permeated the air.

Sam held an arm over his nose and forced himself to toe around the corpses, suppressing rising vomit. Nothing could be done for them.

He stopped at the doorway and looked towards the woman. Anger rose up but fear ultimately won out. Her eyes, slitted like that of snake’s, were unreadable. It’d be foolish to risk her ire after a showcase like that.

She offered a nod, long ponytail bobbing, and the two of them entered the bright doorway together.