The air inside the Tower was stifling. It pressed down on Alaric, heavy and unyielding, like the weight of unseen eyes watching his every move. The figure ahead of him glided through the darkness with unnerving grace, its cloak barely brushing the ground. Each step echoed faintly, as if the walls themselves absorbed the sound, amplifying the silence.

"This is your trial, Alaric," the figure said without turning. Its voice carried a weight that Alaric couldn’t ignore, like the finality of a judge’s gavel. "You will be tested—not by your strength, but by your will to survive."

Alaric’s stomach twisted in knots. His hands, still trembling from the encounter outside, clenched at his sides. "You’re not going to tell me what I’m up against, are you?"

The figure stopped, its head tilting ever so slightly. "What lies ahead is for you to discover. The System only reveals what you earn the right to know."

With that, the figure raised one pale hand. The space before them shimmered, light fracturing like shards of broken glass. A doorway appeared, its edges glowing faintly with golden light.

"You will not have your magic," the figure added, as if sensing his thoughts. "Not yet."

Alaric’s eyes widened. "What? But—"

"You must prove yourself worthy first. Only then will the System unlock your potential."

Before Alaric could argue, the figure stepped aside and gestured toward the doorway. Its meaning was clear: there was no other way forward.

Alaric took a shaky breath, his fingers curling into fists. He didn’t trust this cloaked enigma. He didn’t trust the Tower. But he also knew he had no choice. He had to move forward.

His heart pounding, he stepped through the glowing doorway.

The air changed the moment Alaric crossed the threshold. It was colder here, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones and refused to leave. The room was massive, its high walls illuminated by faintly glowing symbols that pulsed in rhythm, like a heartbeat.

The doorway behind him disappeared with a soft hiss, leaving him alone in a maze of towering stone walls. The ground beneath his feet was uneven, and the air smelled faintly of damp earth and something metallic.

Then, the System spoke.

A translucent screen flickered to life in front of him, its letters strange but somehow comprehensible.

Trial One: The Test of Instinct

Objective: Find the key before the timer expires. Beware the Guardians.

Time Remaining: 15:00

Alaric’s pulse spiked. He glanced at the timer in the corner of the screen. Fifteen minutes and counting.

As if on cue, the walls around him began to shift. Grinding stone echoed through the air as the maze rearranged itself, passages closing and opening at random.

“Okay, okay. Focus,” Alaric muttered, his breaths coming in quick bursts. He broke into a cautious jog, scanning the walls for any clue, any hint of where the key might be hidden.

The sound of movement caught his attention. A low, metallic scrape echoed through the maze, followed by a rhythmic thud, like heavy boots on stone.

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Alaric froze, his ears straining.

The noise grew louder, closer. A shadow stretched across the wall ahead, impossibly large.

Then it appeared.

A towering figure of stone and metal, its body covered in glowing runes, rounded the corner. Its eyes burned with an otherworldly light, scanning the maze with slow, deliberate movements. Its hands were massive, ending in claw-like fingers that gleamed with sharp edges.

Alaric’s chest tightened. Guardian.

The construct turned its head, and for a moment, its glowing eyes locked onto him.

“Crap.”

Alaric bolted.

The Guardian roared, a deep, guttural sound that reverberated through the maze. Its heavy footsteps thundered behind him, shaking the ground.

He ducked around a corner, his mind racing. He couldn’t fight it—not without magic, not without a weapon. He had to outthink it.

The maze twisted and turned, each path looking more identical than the last. Alaric’s lungs burned as he sprinted down another corridor, the Guardian’s relentless footsteps echoing behind him.

He darted into a narrow passage, pressing himself against the wall. The Guardian’s shadow passed by, and for a moment, he thought he’d lost it.

Then he saw it—a faint glint of light further down the corridor.

The key.

It dangled from a pedestal in the center of an open chamber, its golden surface shimmering with an unnatural glow. Relief surged through Alaric, but it was short-lived.

A second Guardian stood motionless beside the pedestal, its massive form casting a long shadow across the room.

Alaric’s mind raced. He didn’t have time to wait. The timer was still ticking down, and he could hear the first Guardian searching nearby.

He crouched low, creeping toward the chamber’s entrance. The second Guardian didn’t move. Its glowing eyes stared straight ahead, unblinking.

"Okay," he whispered to himself. "Just don’t make any noise. Easy, right?"

He edged closer, one step at a time, his heart hammering against his ribs.

Suddenly, the sound of grinding stone erupted behind him.

The first Guardian had found him.

“Damn it!”

The second Guardian’s eyes flared to life, and it turned its head toward him with mechanical precision.

Alaric didn’t think. He ran.

Both Guardians converged on him, their heavy footsteps shaking the chamber. Alaric sprinted toward the pedestal, his mind screaming at him to move faster.

The first Guardian lunged, its clawed hand swiping inches from his back. Alaric dove forward, hitting the ground hard and rolling to his feet.

The second Guardian blocked the pedestal, its massive frame an immovable wall.

“Think, think!” Alaric muttered, his eyes darting around the room. His gaze landed on a pile of loose stones near the wall.

Grabbing one, he hurled it toward the far end of the chamber. The clatter echoed loudly, and for a split second, the second Guardian turned toward the sound.

That was all he needed.

Alaric surged forward, his fingers closing around the key just as the Guardians turned back to him.

The timer flashed.

A blinding light engulfed the chamber, and the sound of grinding stone faded. When Alaric opened his eyes, he was standing in a different room, the Guardians nowhere in sight.

He collapsed to his knees, gasping for air, the key clutched tightly in his hand.

The translucent screen reappeared in front of him, displaying a simple message:

Trial Complete.

Proceed to the next stage.

The doorway ahead shimmered into view.

Alaric stared at it, his chest heaving. The trial had pushed him to his limit, but he’d made it. Without magic, without help.

For the first time since arriving in this world, a small flicker of hope ignited within him.

“I’m not done yet,” he whispered, pulling himself to his feet.

And with the key still in his hand, he stepped through the doorway.