The altar pulsed with a deep, rhythmic energy, as though it had a heartbeat of its own. The closer I stepped, the heavier the air became, pressing down on my chest like an unseen force. It wasn't just power—it was history, an ancient force waiting to be claimed.
Lyra stood beside me, watching silently. Her violet eyes reflected the altar's glow, unreadable as ever. "This is where it all begins," she said, her voice softer now, almost reverent. "The moment you touch that altar, you will no longer be the same."
I swallowed hard. "And if I fail?"
She tilted her head, a small, knowing smile playing at her lips. "Then you will never leave this place."
Encouraging.
Shadowfang paced beside me, its fur bristling. Argonax let out a low screech from above, sensing the gravity of the moment. Even they understood that whatever happened next would define my path forward.
I took a deep breath and reached out.
The moment my fingers brushed the surface of the altar, the world exploded.
I was no longer in the coliseum.
Darkness stretched endlessly in all directions, an infinite abyss with no floor, no sky—just a vast void that swallowed all light. A figure emerged from the depths, stepping forward with slow, deliberate movements.
It was me.
Or, rather, a shadow of me. A perfect, twisted reflection, standing tall with eyes that glowed a deep crimson.
"You seek power," my doppelgänger said, its voice a distorted echo of my own. "But power is not given. It is taken."
Before I could react, it attacked.
Our blades clashed, sending shockwaves rippling through the abyss. Every move I made, my shadow countered with terrifying precision. It knew every feint, every instinct, every strategy—because it was me.
I ducked under a swipe, countering with a slash aimed at its midsection. It twisted unnaturally, dodging the attack before driving a knee into my ribs. Pain exploded through my body, but I forced myself to stay standing.
"You hesitate," it sneered. "That's why you will lose."
I wiped the blood from my lip and exhaled. This wasn't a battle of skill. It was a battle of identity.
If I kept fighting as I was now, I would lose.
I closed my eyes and let the darkness in. Not as an enemy, not as a tool—but as part of me.
When I opened them, the abyss no longer felt like a cage. It felt like home.
The shadow hesitated for the first time. "What—"
I moved. Faster than thought, faster than fear. One with the darkness.
My blade struck true, cutting through the shadow's form. It let out a strangled gasp before dissolving into mist, merging with the abyss once more.
The void trembled, then shattered.
I gasped, stumbling back as reality came rushing in. The altar's glow dimmed, its energy now flowing through me instead of against me.
Lyra studied me with an approving nod. "You did it."
I clenched my fist, feeling the shadows coiling around me like a second skin. Power hummed in my veins, but it wasn't overwhelming. It was mine.
The trial was over.
And I had won.