[ Zetens 14/100 ]
When others arrived, the shock on their faces mirrored his own. The water had already reached the building's foundation and was steadily rising.
Dune turned to Elijah, his mind racing with possibilities. "Is there anything on this island that's taller than this building?"
Elijah shook his head. "Nope. This island's small. No mountains. Nothing taller than the trees around here. It's the only place we can stand."
Dune's mind was a whirlwind. "Then why hasn't the whole island sunk yet?" His thoughts kept running in circles. "And if the water's already here, how are the other 7 Zetens still alive?"
There was something off. His instincts told him they were being watched, but by who?
"What if they have an ability to survive in this toxic water?" Dune murmured, his voice low. "What if they're waiting for us to drown first so they can take the win? Who are these last seven? How are they still alive in the water?"
Elijah spoke up, his voice calm and casual. "Artifacts. You know, they might be using those."
Everyone turned to him. "Artifacts?" Dune asked, raising an eyebrow.
Elijah nodded. "Yeah. Weapons, armor, sometimes even jewelry, that's infused with Nebas. They could be protecting the wearers from the water, from toxic zeten attacks. You could have a necklace that blocks toxins, or a sword that forms a barrier around you, even armor that can make you float or walk on water." … Also, we already know that some Noble families had information about the trials, so it makes sense for them to come prepared.
He paused, his face turning serious. "Those seven people probably have something like that. It's the only way they could survive in this water. No normal person could."
"Well, that complicates things," Atlas muttered, his fingers clenching into fists.
The group fell into silence, the enormity of the situation settling on them like a weight.
Dune cleared his throat, breaking the quiet. "I think Elijah is right, they're in the water, somehow. The island's sinking, and it doesn't matter if we fly away or not. We'll drown eventually, because our neba reserves will drain after some time. but they… they might have something that keeps them alive. They've probably got artifacts, or maybe their abilities are strong enough to protect them from the water."
Atlas's face twisted in frustration. He ran a hand through his hair. "Damn it. This building won't last much longer. How do we fight them in the water?"
No one had an answer. The silence stretched on as the dark water continued to creep closer. Every second felt heavier than the last. They had no plan. The clock was ticking.
Dune exhaled sharply, his mind racing. Their only hope of survival now rested on Nely's ability. If they couldn't find a way, they were as good as dead.
Determined, Nely descended to the second floor, where the rising tide had already begun flooding the area. The water churned unnaturally, dark and hostile, its surface bubbling as if alive.
Without hesitation, she extended her hands, forming a boat from her Neba. The shadowy vessel took shape, its sleek edges solidifying just above the water's surface. But the moment it touched the black water, a sickening hiss filled the air.
The boat disintegrated instantly.
Nely's eyes widened as she quickly tried to reinforce it with more Neba, channeling everything she had into repairing the decaying structure. But no matter how much energy she poured into it, the water burned through the boat faster than she could heal it.
Dune clenched his fists. It didn't matter how many of them tried at once, eventually, they'd all run out of Neba, and their creations would crumble.
If they couldn't find a way to outlast the water, they would sink. And the sea would consume them.
Dune sat on the edge of the building, trying to piece together a strategy. The others joined him, lost in thought, but Elijah seemed unbothered. He leaned casually against a wall, eyes half-lidded.
Elijah had always been that way, acting like nothing could faze him, but Dune couldn't afford to think that way. He felt the pressure closing in, the sinking island mirroring his own sinking hope.
Nely stood up, frustration bubbling to the surface. "Why are we just sitting here?!" she snapped, glaring at Dune. "Bunny, You've gotten us out of tight spots before! Do something!"
Dune, despite the mounting pressure, stayed calm. He was trying to think, but his mind was clouded. After a few moments, he turned to Elijah. "How many people can you carry with you if you fly?"
Elijah shrugged. "None, unless I use Zeten to carry them. If I do that, I won't have enough to stay airborne for long. I'd end up falling straight into the water."
Dune exactly knew what Elijah was thinking, he'd thought about it himself too. If they couldn't come up with a solid plan, there was another way to end the trial….
To kill four people.
[ Zetens 14/100 ]
It was a grim solution, but one that lingered in the back of his mind. When the number of participants reached ten, the trial would end. Four people needed to die. It was simple math, but the cost…
Dune swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. He didn't want to entertain the idea, but it was there, gnawing at him. It was a last resort, but the risks were overwhelming. His own self, the darker, ruthless version of himself, seemed to whisper in his ear, planting seeds of doubt and fear. While his trial self was telling him completely opposite.
Could he do it? Could he bring himself to kill Nely, the twins and Elijah? His hands trembled at the thought.
If it came down to it, he thought bitterly, I'd have to kill everyone here except for Atlas and Ned. But would we even stand a chance? Would Atlas, Ned, and I be able to take on Elijah, Nely, and the twins?
His chest tightened as he considered it. Ned was powerful, his Red Zeten was formidable, but relying on him alone was too dangerous. If Ned failed, if Elijah dodged his attack or managed to overpower him, they'd all be dead.
Dune closed his eyes, trying to silence the dark thoughts, but they wouldn't leave him alone. His own self seemed to laugh at him, mocking his hesitation. His body felt like a battlefield, torn between his desire to protect and the voice urging him to survive at any cost.
There's no guarantee we'd win, he thought grimly. Even if Ned got a clean shot, Elijah is unpredictable. And if Elijah turned on us, no one could stop him, not Nely, not the twins, not even Ned.
I need to find a way to force the other Zetens out of the water. If we can somehow draw them out, we might have a chance to fight on equal ground. But if they stay hidden... His mind spiraled again, images of failure flashing before him.
Dune let out a slow breath, forcing himself to focus. *I can't let fear control me. I have to stay calm, for my own sake.*
The doubts lingered, but he pushed them aside. For now, he needed to keep thinking. He needed a plan. There had to be another way to survive this without turning on the people who had started to trust him.
Dune sighed, running a hand through his hair. This was more complicated than he'd thought.
But then, suddenly, an idea sparked in his mind.
He sat down and extended his Neba, letting it pulse outward like ripples in water. It spread through the cracks in the floor, slipping past the broken foundation, seeping into the earth below. He pushed further, letting it expand wider, deeper, as far as it could reach.
At first, there was nothing. Just the usual silence of the decayed island. But then,
Movement.
His breath hitched.
Shapes, dark, shifting figures, lurking beneath them. Seven Zeten!
His heart pounded in his chest as realization struck. They were below. In the water, hidden in the submerged ruins beneath the island's surface. "Shit."
Forcing them to the surface wouldn't be easy. Attacking underwater was suicide. He needed to lure them out, to make them move first. But how?
"Atlas…" standing up straight. Everyone's eyes snapped to him. "Atlas, can you tell what the water's made of exactly?"
Atlas blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"
Dune took a breath, excited by the sudden possibility. "Can your ability identify the properties of the water? If it's made of something specific, maybe we can use it to our advantage."
Atlas gave a small nod. "Yeah, I can check."
Within moments, Atlas ran down to the below floor, tested water and returned just as quickly. His face was pale, his hand burned. "It's not normal water," he said, his voice tight. "It's made of Zeten. That's why it's toxic. It's not like anything we've seen before. That's why it burns anyone who touches it."
Dune's eyes lit up. "So, what if we enhance the water? What if we pour our Zeten Nebas into it and make it stronger in our area?"
Atlas's eyebrows furrowed as he processed Dune's words. "You think we could do that?"
"Yes," Dune said, his confidence growing. "We can make the water stronger around us, it's like healing the neba ship, and if we do that, it might overpower whatever abilities or artifacts they have. The enemy will have no choice but to come out from the water. And that's when we strike. Atlas your Zeten is purple, it should 100% work…" Dune whispered.
Atlas looked at him, stunned. "Dune, that's... actually brilliant."
Dune grinned. "Using Zeten like this, without even having an animal core is risky, but we have no other choice. Let's make it work."
Together, they began to channel their different Zeten Nebas into the water from the corners of the building. The water in front of them began to glow, dark energy swirling as they amplified black Zeten.
Elijah stood in the middle, ready to fight, his body poised for action. The rest of the group worked in unison, strengthening the water, making it thicker, more dangerous. Elijah would be their weapon, they would be the ones to shape the battlefield.
Dune stood between Atlas and Elijah, his eyes scanning the water and the horizon. "Please work... this is our only chance."