Charon felt as though he had been punched in the gut the moment he entered the room.
The air became harder to breathe, his exhausted lungs begging for oxygen.
Gasping, he slowed his pace and looked for the source of the change, his eyes wildly darting around.
The room was a perfect square with matte black walls. Thousands of purple runes were carved into every inch, a faint golden glow emanating from them.
In the very center of the room stood a glass case, reaching from the ceiling to the floor.
Inside, Charon saw a staff as dark as onyx, a purple skull adorning its top. Black smoke drifted off the item, filling the box with an ominous mist.
The moment he laid eyes upon it, he felt a headache rapidly growing, only stopping when he looked away.
'What the hell is that thing?'
Despite the question, he knew that it was the artifact they had been sent here for.
'That's definitely something the God of Death would be connected to.'
Glancing up, he tried to find a way to get it out of its case, but the headache returned in full force.
Powering through it, he grit his teeth and wiped blood from a gash off his forehead, the pain helping focus his actions.
He walked up to the glass and slowly made his way around the base, hoping to find some sort of release or opening, but nothing popped out to him. It was smooth all the way around.
'Well, it's not like they are giving me many options.'
Sick of the heavy air and growing headache, he brought his sword up and swung it, striking the glass with as much strength as he could muster.
A spiderweb of cracks appeared at the point of impact, a bit of the black mist wafting out.
Pulling back to hit it again, he swung right through the dark mist, screaming in agony as he dropped his sword.
Falling to the ground, he cried out as the flesh on his right arm began to rot. Pink skin fell off, splatting on the ground as only bone remained.
Despite the pain he felt coursing through his veins, he managed to remain conscious, the terror he felt only fueling his desire to leave this accursed trial.
'All I need to do is grab the artifact!'
Although he had never been told what the requirements to end the trial were, he felt confident he only needed to grab the artifact, then he would be sent home.
'That has to be the trial! It has to!'
Staring at the stump where his hand used to be, he used his remaining limb to grab his sword, dragging himself to his feet away from where he had first cracked the glass.
'Let's see how you like it this time!'
With pain and conviction driving him, Charon moved to the opposite side of the case and struck it once more, creating another break.
Quickly hobbling to another side, he slashed with his blade, doing the same on the fourth side as well.
By now, the cage had cracks snaking over its entire surface, leaking more of deadly smog with every second.
Stepping back to admire his work, Charon laughed out loud, his voice tinged with pain. The destroyed remains of his right arm hung limply at his side, blood oozing out.
He shouted out to no one in particular, daring them to stop him now.
"Is this what you wanted with your trial? To see me go insane? Well, here I am! I broke your little case, and now I'm going to grab that stick and have it take me home!"
Ready to take that final step to freedom, he froze when he realized he had made a fatal mistake.
'The smoke is everywhere now!'
After creating breaks all over the glass, the area around the artifact was now covered in a moat of evil smoke. More cracks appeared, spreading further and further until the rest of the case collapsed, releasing the rest of the smoke.
'Who the hell approved this trial! This isn't fair! How is anyone supposed to pass this?'
Charon's gripes fell on empty ears.
It was only him, the artifact, and the occasional sound of battle coming from the other room.
'I could still try and escape back that way. Run up the staircase, leave the fortress, and find some other way to complete the trial!'
Even though the idea sounded good, he knew that it was taking a huge risk.
'What if the gods decide to end the trial once I run away, deleting me from existence, or worse!'
Crouching down, he grabbed his head and yelled in anguish.
'Gods damn it all!'
Realizing he had no other options, he stood up and looked at the artifact with fury.
Taking a few more steps back to give himself a running start, he inhaled deeply, ignoring the strain the room put on his lungs.
'Time to see what happens first; me dying a horrible death, or me grabbing an artifact that may just grant me an even more horrible death.'
Closing his eyes so he couldn't see his body deteriorate, he took the first couple of steps to reach the artifact.
Steeling himself, he felt his body crash into something hard, head first, bouncing back and slamming onto the ground with a nasty crack.
Opening his eyes in shock, he expected to see his body melt away as the black mist took him, but he instead saw the matte black roof of the room.
'What the?'
Looking to the center, he saw a wall of shadows blocking him from the case.
'Shadows? Is this another defense mechanism?'
Wiping the blood from his broken nose off, he crawled to his feet, staring at the wall of roiling shade uncertainly.
A voice dragged his attention elsewhere.
"Thank you, Charon, but I can take it from here."
Turning with a start, he was surprised to see the priest standing at the doorway.
His hand was outstretched, shadows coiling around his palm. His robes were torn to ribbons, exposing pale skin to the light.
'Oh thank the heavens!'
Smiling with tears in his eyes, he stumbled towards the man, hoping that he could end this nightmare.
"I had thought that freak was going to kill you! You looked so worried!"
The priest, in response, only frowned.
"He would have, if not for the other soldiers intervening. We must be quick, he will have finished them by now."
The ice in his voice stopped Charon short.
"What do you mean finished them off? Did you not kill him?"
The priest just shook his head and began to approach the case.
"No. He is far too strong for me to fight him alone, but with that artifact, I can kill him and the rest of his disgusting blood servants."
Charon took a half step back, his mind whirling.
"Wait, I need it! I need to finish my trial! Can you grab it and let me touch it?"
He was unsure if touching it was enough, but it was better than nothing.
The robed figure didn't stop his approach.
"It is an artifact of Death, far too sacred to be needlessly touched by those who have a single Sigil. Now go out there and continue the fight."
Now in full retreat, Charon struggled to make sense of what was happening.
"Wait, why would you tell us to get the artifact at all costs if you were just going to take it yourself? It makes no sense!"
The priest, now inches away from the artifact, walked into the mist. To Charon's horror, nothing happened to him.
"The artifact has a very peculiar defense mechanism. The Mists of Death only harm those that touch the glass, which I have not done. I required a soldier such as yourself to free the item for me."
Betrayal warred with anger as Charon watched the man reach for the artifact, knowing that his chance to escape the trial was slipping away.
Thinking about everything he had been through the last few days, he opened his mouth and screamed, ignoring the pain he felt all over his body and charging towards the artifact with wild abandon.
"I'm getting that staff you bastard!"
The priest seemed to have not anticipated that reaction, his hand stopping an inch from the onyx staff. With panicked movements, he summoned a shield of shadows, but the suicidal teenager jumped over it, crashing through the mist and colliding with the staff.
His face began to burn, his sight immediately blurring as the wretched fumes hit him.
Grabbing the artifact with his good hand, Charon could only scream as blackened patches of skin appeared all over his good arm, the nerves dying rapidly.
By a stroke of luck, or rather happenstance, the skin on his palm melted before his arm detached, allowing a great deal of blood to fall onto the artifact.
The pain grew muted, his thoughts coming out lethargicly. He lost control of his body, collapsing to the ground on the other side of the case.
'I must be dying. I guess I was wrong…'
Before he knew what was happening, the world faded around him, leaving him in perpetual darkness.
A few yellow words appeared in front of him, flickering into existence from the void.
[You have bonded with an artifact of Death: Patience]
[You have completed a trial.]