Rachel stepped off the bus into a noisy suburban sprawl, the kind where the air smelled faintly of asphalt and fried food. Cars honked. A group of teenagers laughed too loudly near a storefront. Somewhere, a bell rang, its metallic echo swallowed by the chaos.
She pulled her backpack tighter and kept her head down, weaving through the crowd until the public library came into view — a block of glass and concrete under the soft burn of a late afternoon sun. Inside, fluorescent lights hummed above rows of neatly aligned shelves, and the air carried that sharp scent of paper and cleaning agents.
Rachel walked up to the counter."Do you have Through the Veil?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
The clerk — a woman with graying hair tied into a perfect bun — looked up slowly. Her gaze lingered on Rachel longer than it should have before she smiled."I believe that's a new release," she said, her voice smooth, almost rehearsed. "Not on the shelves yet… but we do have a couple of copies in the back."She gestured toward a narrow hallway. "If you'll follow me, I can give you one."
Rachel hesitated, a faint unease prickling at her neck. But she nodded.They passed a "Staff Only" sign and entered a corridor lined with dull beige walls and a flickering overhead light. The sound of their footsteps echoed strangely — as if the hallway were stretching longer than it should.
At the end was a single metal door. The clerk stopped, pulling out a key. The lock turned with a sharp click, unnervingly loud in the narrow space."It's right through here," the clerk said, gesturing politely. "You first."
Rachel's palms were damp. Still, she stepped through.
The air changed immediately — dense and humid, pressing down on her lungs. Darkness swallowed the room beyond. She turned to look back, but the clerk was already closing the door."Wait—"
The sound of the latch was final.
Rachel grabbed the handle and pushed. The door opened — but instead of the hallway, she was staring into a sunlit office space. Old carpet. Yellowed walls. The faint buzz of fluorescent bulbs. Her heartbeat quickened.
Where… am I?
"Rachel! You're finally here!" a familiar voice called out.
She turned. Terra stood across the room, waving.
Rachel glanced back — the door was gone. No going back.
She crossed over. "Do you know where we are?"
Terra shook her head. "Nope. I was escorted here by some people from the organization. We went through a door, and… I was here. They weren't."
Rachel frowned. "Same. I woke up with a letter on my nightstand. Instructions, directions — now I'm here." She looked around. "Have you seen Naemor?"
"No. Every now and then, a door appears and drops someone new, but most of them are just… normal. I think the others have another way in."
The clock on the wall ticked, slow and steady, toward the appointed time. The air seemed to thrum faintly — like the building itself was waiting.
Doors blinked in and out of existence across the walls, spitting out more contestants, but none of the mystical ones appeared.
"They're cutting it close, aren't they?" Rachel murmured.
"Maybe," Terra said. "But I doubt they use doors like we do. Maybe they're already here, watching."
As she said that, the air in front of them split open. A door formed out of light and shadow, edges pulsing like molten glass.
The guide stepped through.
"Good guesses," she said smoothly. "But they won't be coming to you."Her gaze swept across the group, sharp and heavy. "You'll be going to them."
She snapped her fingers.
A low hum rippled through the air. The walls glowed faintly as thin, luminous lines spread like veins through the building's frame. The floor pulsed under their feet, then cracked apart as the office dissolved into open air.
When the glare faded, they were standing outside. The mystical contestants were already there, watching.
Rachel squinted. "Why make us wait in there if you could just bring us here instantly?"
The guide turned, her expression unreadable. "As you might have read during your trials, human organizations know of our existence. Some of their agents infiltrate our ranks, pretending to be one of you."She took a step closer. The air between them cooled."The waiting room weeds them out. I can't tell you how. But it's as much for your protection as it is for ours."
Then her tone changed — brisk and formal again."Welcome to your first training session. Here, we'll measure your baselines — see how weak or strong you truly are."
She pointed. "Naemor. Saevra. You two, follow these men. You'll undergo separate testing."
Naemor nodded, calm and unreadable. The cloaked girl, Saevra, followed silently, her steps whispering against the grass.
The guide turned back to the rest."As most of you know, the first Tier of cultivation is Body Refinement. Now — who here can tell me what that means?"
A boy raised his hand. "It's tempering the body to handle mana."
The guide nodded faintly. "Anyone else?"
Another voice spoke. "It's removing impurities so that mana flows purer."
The guide's eyes flicked toward Terra. "And you?"
Terra didn't hesitate. "It's to cultivate the mind — to understand what cultivation really means."
A slow smile crept across the guide's lips. "Correct."
She walked among them, her presence like a quiet storm. "The Body Refinement stage tests more than strength. It's endurance, perseverance — the will to break, and the will to rise again. The Tiers exist for a reason. Only those who refuse to stop reach the end."
Her voice lowered, almost a whisper. "Do you think you have it in you?"
Fists clenched. The air seemed to vibrate with tension.
"Good," she said, straightening. "Now look at your wrists."
They looked down. Sleek black bracelets now circled their arms, pulsing faintly.
"These match the gravity imposed on you to your physical limit. Like this."
With a flick of her finger, the world crashed down.
Bodies hit the ground. Knees buckled. The air thickened, pressing like invisible stone. Some cried out, others gasped for breath.
"See?" the guide said with a serene smile. "Everyone's equal now."
She clasped her hands behind her back. "Your warm-up is simple — ten laps through those woods." She gestured to the treeline beyond the field. "About four miles. Give or take a mile." A hint of amusement glimmered in her eyes. "Definitely give a mile."
She turned, and a door formed behind her, light bending inward.
"Finish before sundown," she said, one hand on the handle. "These are your real bodies — and the sun does go down here."She smiled, low and mocking. "If you're still running after dark… well—" she glanced toward the trees "—you'll find out what else calls this place home."
And with that, the door closed behind her, leaving silence — heavy, suffocating silence — and a dozen contestants struggling to stand beneath the unseen weight of their own limits.