Day four began like the previous three—Null sleeping peacefully while chaos reigned around him.
The Nexus Heirs maintained their vigil from a concealed bunker, monitoring ether signatures and plotting contingencies. Khaos stalked the eastern wastelands, following the Void Stalker's trail of dimensional tears. The remaining students had formed desperate alliances or gone to ground, waiting for the trial to end.
A perfect stalemate.
Then the sky cracked.
Arthur's projection materialized above the dimension, larger than it had been before. His grin stretched too wide, eyes gleaming with sadistic anticipation.
"Good morning, survivors!" His voice boomed across every corner of the trial space. "Day four of seven, and I must say… I'm disappointed."
The projection leaned forward conspiratorially.
"Our apex predators have grown complacent. The dragon sleeps. The heirs hide. Even our dear Khaos is taking her sweet time." He sighed dramatically. "How dull. Let's shrink the board, shall we?"
His fingers snapped.
The horizon turned crimson.
"A simple rule change: The dimension will now compress. Anyone touched by the storm wall will be… disqualified." His laugh echoed wrong. "Permanently. You have six hours to reach the center. Try not to die."
The projection vanished.
From every direction, walls of crimson energy rose like tsunami waves frozen mid-crash. They moved slowly but inexorably inward, disintegrating everything they touched into red particles that dissolved before hitting the ground.
Khaos felt the wall's approach before she saw it. The Void Stalker did too.
The creature had been elusive for days, phasing in and out of dimensions to avoid confrontation. Now, with the walls closing in, it had nowhere to run. It materialized fully for the first time—a writhing mass of tentacles and eyes that existed in too many dimensions simultaneously. Looking at it directly caused headaches as the brain tried to process something that violated three-dimensional logic.
Perfect.
The Stalker struck first, tentacles phasing through multiple realities to attack from angles that didn't exist. One moment they weren't there, the next they were inside her guard, wrapping around limbs and throat.
Khaos didn't dodge. A sphere of negation expanded from her core, a bubble of reality where only her will was law. The tentacles found themselves suddenly bound by normal physics, solid and vulnerable. She grabbed one with her bare hand.
"Disappointing," she said, and pulled.
The Stalker shrieked as she dragged it fully into normal space, its multidimensional nature compressed into three dimensions, much like forcing a sphere through a square hole. It thrashed, reality warping around it in protest.
She raised her other hand. Dark energy condensed into a blade of pure cessation.
One swing. The Stalker split not just physically but conceptually. Its existence unraveled from the point of impact, each piece trying desperately to phase away, only to find her absolute authority over the space inescapable.
Twenty seconds total.
She watched the creature's remains dissolve into nothing, then turned her attention to the approaching wall. Three miles away and closing. The center was fifteen miles west.
The bunker's walls cracked first.
"The structural integrity is compromised," Elarion stated, his voice calm and analytical. "The rate of collapse is constant. The geometric center is the final point of stability. Remaining here is illogical."
"He's right," Marcus said, already drawing his weapon. "The only path is forward."
Without another word, they scattered—no panic, no wasted motion, just the practiced efficiency of individuals who knew their own capabilities. Selene's shadows swallowed them, emerging beyond the collapsing structure just as crimson energy consumed it. They ran, not desperately, but tactically, a loose coalition of threats moving toward a common goal. They encountered other students along the way—some fleeing in panic, others already consumed by the wall. The Heirs didn't stop to help. Cold arithmetic governed their decisions: survival probability versus time lost.
The wall's energy woke Null when it was still two miles away.
He sat up slowly, stretching like a cat in sunshine. The crimson light painted everything in shades of blood and shadow. The ozone smell was so thick that it was almost tangible.
"Six hours?" He checked the wall's speed and did quick calculations. "More like ninety minutes at this rate."
He stood, brushing grass from his clothes. Around him, unconscious students began to stir, their survival instincts overriding the induced sleep. They'd wake to find themselves directly in the wall's path.
Not his problem.
Space folded. One step carried him fifteen miles.
The coliseum materialized around him—ancient stone worn smooth by impossible age, tiered seating that could hold thousands, a sand floor stained with old blood that wouldn't wash away.
He stood in the arena's center, hands in pockets, and waited.
The Nexus Heirs arrived twelve minutes later, portal-jumping through the main entrance. They spread out immediately, taking defensive positions. Their eyes found him, assessing and calculating.
"Null," Marcus acknowledged.
"Marcus," Null replied, amused. "Others."
They maintained a careful distance. Not allies, not enemies. Not yet.
More students began arriving—solos, pairs, full alliances. They hugged the walls, claimed sections of seating, and established territories. Everyone watched everyone, waiting for someone else to make the first move. The walls were visible now, crimson doom approaching from all sides—forty minutes until convergence.
Khaos stood atop a mountain that wouldn't exist in three minutes. The Void Stalker's essence still clung to her fingers, dissolving slowly. She extended her senses, sifting through the chaotic ether signatures of fleeing students and a collapsing world. She ignored them all, searching for the one signature that mattered—the quiet void, the impossible calm at the center of the storm.
And him.
A void in space itself, impossible to miss. Not hiding, not defending. Just… waiting.
Her lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. More anticipation than joy. More hunger than happiness.
"…Found you."