As Kael opened the door, he saw an old man flanked by two beautiful women, one of whom was the receptionist who had guided him earlier. For a moment, there was an awkward silence. Then the old man's voice broke the stillness. "Please follow me, young master, to the chamber hall." As he spoke those words, the old man turned around and walked straight ahead. The two ladies followed him, and Kaelvren instinctively joined them on the walk to the chamber hall. While walking, Kaelvren observed the figure ahead. He wore a perfectly pressed uniform and carried an unreadable yet authoritative presence. Unlike the receptionist, he didn't have the emblem of the House of War on his chest but instead bore an insignia on his right chest — the insignia of the Enforcers from the Alliance. As he murmured to himself, "It seems like he's some kind of high-ranking officer, or maybe he's the one who manages this center." His thoughts were broken when the old man spoke. "Young master, I know you're aware of this, but I must explain it as it's standard procedure. The trial you're about to face will be based on your beliefs, and if you manage to pass the trial, you will be chosen by the Seeker and awakened. If you fail, you will transform into many strings of energy and vanish." In his mind, Kaelvren thought, "Procedure, my ass! What about those poor commoners? Do they explain it to them like this?" But in reality, he said, "I know about it." As they reached the end of the narrow hall and entered the chamber hall, Kaelvren was surprised to see only a few pods. They looked luxurious and were placed in the center, and it seemed that every single one of the pods was empty. The old officer turned to him. "This is where it will begin," he spoke. "You will now undergo the trial of your belief. For most, it lasts between seven to eight days. In rare cases, years… even decades, and for unfortunate youths, they die." Kaelvren smirked, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Tell me something I don't know. Is this common chamber hall that everyone uses?" The old officer replied to his second question, "No, this is the VIP hall," and ignored the first question. He thought, "Oh, VIP space." He gestured toward an empty pod. "Lie down, young master." Without hesitation, Kaelvren stepped inside the pod. The old man spoke once again, "It would be better if you changed into something more comfortable." As he heard this suggestion, he immediately transformed his clothes into something like a hospital gown by clicking on his black ring. As his clothes changed, the cushioned surface of the pod began to adjust itself for his body as the transparent cover slid shut. A mechanical voice echoed through the chamber. "Process beginning… putting the subject into a sleeping state." As his eyelids grew heavy, he forced out a question before the darkness could claim him. "Do they know about it?" The old officer hesitated for a moment, then answered, "Yes." Kaelvren's breath hitched. "Did you call them?" Another pause. Then, a simple, unwavering reply. "Yes." Kaelvren hesitated but then said coldly, "The moment I come out of this trial... I'm going to kill you." The old officer chuckled softly. "Sure, young master, it was done for your own safety." As his eyelids grew heavy with each second and his mind went blank in the darkness, he heard a whisper in his blank mind. "Welcome, chosen one, to your first trial." Kaelvren's consciousness stirred. His thoughts were fragmented, scattered like shards of glass. Then a sudden haze of memories surfaced. He was in a field surrounded by many trees. In the center of the field, there were two graves standing side by side. The names carved into the stone were familiar to him. It made him fall to his knees in pain when he saw their names: Hexon Stormborn and Saptaliya Stormborn. Below their names, a single title was etched: "Brave Warriors of Humanity." Kaelvren stood before the graves, his body frozen in place. The wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the memories of his past that he could never escape. His hands clenched into fists, his nails digging deep into his palms. Memories surged like waves of the sea inside his mind: the last moments he saw them, the battle that took their lives, the helplessness that consumed him as they fell. He stood there, watching, powerless. He closed his eyes. "I only seek a life free of misery. I don't want misery in my life… after seeing both of you fall before me." Reaching forward, he traced his fingers over the cold stone. Then, beneath their names, he carved his vow into the cold stone with a small stone. "A life free of misery." As the wind howled, the memory faded, and silence fell. A cold voice broke this silence: "Welcome to the Temple of Belief." Suddenly, he was falling. Without any warning, he landed safely. His eyes snapped open. Kaelvren found himself standing before the Temple of Belief. It was a massive broken structure, its stone walls covered in thick, creeping shadows. The structure loomed like a forgotten ruin, untouched by the world outside. Torches flickered dimly, creating a narrow stone path, their flames barely pushing back the overwhelming darkness that surrounded the temple. There was nothing else — only the temple, the torches, and the void that stretched endlessly beyond it. Kaelvren took a cautious step forward. His foot hit solid stone, the impact echoing through the emptiness. He walked forward, the torches casting eerie shadows across his path. As he reached the center of the temple, there stood a stone platform upon which was a round stone. He remembered his elder's words.
Then, in one swift motion, he bit into his palm, and the blood started to drip. As his blood dripped onto the cold stone floor, the air trembled. Before his eyes, the spilled blood began to shift, spreading outward, pooling into a deep crimson mass that pulsed like a living thing. From its depths, burning red threads began to emerge, writhing and flickering like embers in the darkness.
Thin, smearing strands slithered across the floor, inching toward him like living veins. They coiled around his legs and arms, creeping up his body and constricting his chest. Kaelvren gasped as the threads tightened, their pull relentless. His body lurched forward, dragged against his will.
"Crap! Why is it me?!" he screamed, struggling against the unseen force. Instinct took over. He clawed at the ground, fingers scraping against the cold stone in a desperate attempt to resist. But it was futile.
The bloody pool beneath him rippled. Then, in a single violent surge, it swallowed him whole. The trial had begun.