The silver Knight

"Hey, is Number 1 missing?" Kaizen asked, his voice low but cutting through the idle chatter of his friends.

Raze smirked, leaning back with a casual shrug. "Oh, he's gone, alright. Maybe the vanishing guy decided to vanish for good the moment he heard the word 'fight.' Typical."

Before anyone could add more to the conversation, a sharp, clipped voice interrupted. "He's been terminated from continuing the exams."

Kaizen turned, and his eyes fell on a figure he hadn't noticed before—a short, stooped old man standing with his hands clasped behind his back. Despite his size and age, his presence was oddly commanding, like a weathered oak tree still standing after a storm.

The man continued, his voice steady and deliberate. "Stealing the Veil of others for some unknown purpose—that was his first offense. A serious one. People usually do things like that for... unsavory reasons. And if that weren't enough, he also made off with the coffee bucket. That was the last straw."

Kaizen's brow furrowed as he took a closer look at the man. He had a gleaming bald head that caught the dim light, surrounded by a thin halo of white hair that clung stubbornly to the edges of his scalp, like snow clinging to rocks. Kaizen couldn't stop the thought from crossing his mind: How did this old man make it this far?

And more importantly, Why, at his age, does he even need a license?

The man seemed aware of Kaizen's unspoken question, but he said nothing more. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, as though daring anyone to question his presence. Kaizen, for once, kept silent, his usual sharp tongue subdued by the quiet authority radiating from the unlikely figure.

"So, Number 3 is still here! Why's that?" Rai asked, addressing the same old man, his tone sharp with curiosity.

The old man adjusted the fur-lined collar of his weathered cloak, looking up at Rai with a calm, knowing expression. "The evidence cleared him," he said, matter-of-factly. "Turns out he didn't steal anything. All he did was stay by Number 1's side, serving coffee to everyone the whole time. A harmless sort, really. For that, he just got a warning."

Rai blinked, digesting the information, but before he could ask more, the air around them shifted. The instructor began to rise. As always, his strange, weightless ascent struck the participants with a chill of unease, stirring memories of previous ordeals. It wasn't the act of floating that unsettled them—it was the things that always followed.

The instructor's voice carried down from above, crisp and commanding. "Everyone will now be taken to your respective entry points!"

Heads tilted back, all eyes turned upward to follow him, like plants seeking sunlight. The faint sheen of his Veil made him glow faintly in the dim light, casting long shadows across the group below. Whatever this next stage was, the sight of him floating there only solidified the weight of what was coming.

The ground beneath their feet shimmered faintly before a transparent box materialized around each of them. It was snug, nearly matching the dimensions of the stone tile they stood on, though just slightly smaller. The air seemed to hum with energy as the boxes began to move—some floated gracefully, rising into the sky, while others were dragged along the uneven ground with a jarring scrape.

Soon, the temple was encircled by participants. They weren't just clustered on the ground anymore; three distinct layers floated above the earth, each brimming with figures encased in their transparent cages. Rai turned his head to the left, spotting a stranger in the next box. He glanced to his right—another unfamiliar face stared straight ahead.

His gaze stretched across the maze of floating and grounded boxes, searching for something, someone familiar. But Kaizen, Raze, Giro—all of them were scattered, their positions lost among the countless faces filling the space. Some stood on the ground like him; others hovered in the first layer of air, or the second, or even the highest, poised before their individual entrances to the labyrinth below.

Rai swallowed hard, the enormity of the moment settling on his shoulders. By the time he reached the endpoint of this challenge, it was possible—no, probable—that Kaizen, Raze, or Giro wouldn't be there. But Jaxor would be. Zane, too. And Number 3, with his unnerving calm.

Rai drew a deep breath, his hands pressing firmly against the sides of his face as if to contain the storm of thoughts swirling inside his head. He willed himself to focus. Trust your friends, he told himself. They'll find their way. For now, he had no choice but to focus on his own path, his own fights.

The sharp crack of a shotgun echoed through the air, shattering the tense silence. "Three! Two! One!" The instructor's countdown marked the start of Round Four. Rai flinched at the sound, his ears ringing faintly as he stood rooted to the spot. The reality of the moment hit him like a wave.

Glancing down, he noticed how the pristine white of his shirt had turned a murky brown, streaked with dust and grime. His baggy pants hung limp and loose, almost absurdly so, as if they were mocking him for wearing them at all. He swallowed hard and stepped forward, his boots scuffing against the cold stone beneath him.

Before him loomed the temple entrance, dark and forbidding. The path stretched straight ahead, narrow and unyielding, offering no turns or choices—just a relentless corridor that disappeared into the shadows. The faintest glimmer of light fell away as he took another step, and then another, the darkness folding in around him like a heavy curtain.

Each movement grew heavier, the ground beneath him slanting upwards at a subtle angle, pulling at his muscles. With every step, it felt as though an invisible weight had been lashed to his legs, dragging him back. "Why is the ground rising?" he wondered. There was no answer.

He paused mid-step, his breathing harsh and ragged. The air around him was suffocating, thick with a damp, oppressive weight. Sweat poured from his face, dripping onto the cold stone floor. His pulse hammered in his ears, and for the first time, fear crept in, sharp and unrelenting.

The path ahead was pitch black. Rai stood there, unable to take another step, his chest heaving as though he'd been running for miles. His breath came in shallow gasps, but he couldn't will himself forward. Something about the shadows ahead felt alive, and for a moment, he thought the darkness was watching him.

"I'll just walk… I guess," Rai murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, swallowed by the dark.

His footsteps echoed softly, each step ricocheting off unseen surfaces. At least, he thought they were. Rai glanced upward, squinting into the blackness, and his heart skipped a beat. The ceiling was so low, it seemed ready to press down on his head. What about those taller than this? How would they manage? The thought came and went, fleeting like a shadow.

He shuffled onward, his movements slow and hesitant, his body heavy with fatigue. The air felt stagnant, thick. His eyelids drooped, the monotony of the path lulling him into an almost trance-like state. And then it hit.

A sudden gust of wind lashed against his face, cold and sharp, snapping him awake. Startled, Rai looked to his left, then to his right. There was nothing—just a void of black. Instinctively, he reached out, his fingers brushing where he thought the walls should be. They met nothing. His heart thudded in confusion.

Curious and unnerved, Rai stretched his hand upward. The curved ceiling that had been just above him moments ago was gone. No rough stone, no tangible barrier—just emptiness. All around him, there was nothing but the thick, suffocating darkness.

Another gust of wind sliced past, colder this time, sharper, making him flinch. Rai stumbled back a step, his hand instinctively reaching for something—anything—solid to hold onto. His mind raced, grasping for an explanation.

Where is this wind coming from? The thought lingered, heavy and unanswered. There were no gaps, no openings in the darkness. Nothing around him suggested a source. And yet, here it was, relentless and unsettling.

The logic of the world, the small, dependable truths of reality, seemed to crumble in this place. Rai felt the weight of it—his own ignorance of what surrounded him, what lay ahead, and even what was behind. The thought chilled him more than the wind ever could.

Rai dropped his cold hands into his even colder pockets, hoping for warmth but finding none. The chill was relentless, sinking into his bones and holding fast.

"I'll just use my veil! It's bright, after all," he thought, the idea sparking a flicker of hope in the oppressive dark.

The moment he activated it, a sharp white light burst forth, blinding and stark. It reflected off unseen surfaces, throwing fractured shapes into his vision. Rai squinted, trying to focus, but everything ahead of him blurred into a confusing swirl of white and black. Instinctively, he took a step back, then another, until the full scene unraveled before him.

There it was: a hulking figure, broad and unyielding, clad in gleaming bronze armor that seemed to ripple with the light. Its form was massive, almost grotesque in its size and presence. The armor covered the figure entirely, even its mouth, which was hidden behind a mask-like plate. The helmet atop its head was jagged, its center cracked wide like a barren dome of bald metal.

In its hands, the figure wielded a long, cruel weapon. The edge was a jagged length of metal, nearly a foot long, adorned with vicious spikes that gleamed ominously in the light. The weapon swung through the air with a heavy, deliberate force, carving through the darkness and sending cold, slicing gusts toward Rai. He felt the sting of the wind, sharp and biting, and suddenly understood its source.

The figure had been there long before Rai arrived, its presence patient and terrible. It seemed to swing the weapon not with precision, but in blind, repetitive arcs—either signaling for a foe in the void or hoping, perhaps, to strike one by chance. The rhythmic, almost mechanical movement unsettled Rai, its unthinking nature more menacing than an intentional strike.

Whatever it was, Rai wanted no part of it. His veil had been active for less than a minute, but it had already shown him enough. With a hurried motion, he shut it off, plunging himself back into the safety of the dark. His breaths came quick and shallow as he stood there, still and silent, hoping the figure wouldn't notice. Hoping it couldn't see him at all.