The unmarked sector stretched ahead like a living wound in the Forsaken City. Buildings leaned in impossible angles, streets folded over themselves, and shadows moved against the laws of light. Every step we took felt heavier, as if the city itself measured our resolve and weighed it against the price of survival.
Kael adjusted his grip on his crossbow, eyes scanning the fractured horizon. "I hate it when a street decides to be a trap."
"I don't hate it," I said. "I respect it. For once, respect is safer than pride."
The Legacy Mark throbbed faintly beneath my chest, a constant reminder that every choice carried weight. Unlike before, I could feel the city testing me—not through enemies, but through structure, through space. The air shimmered slightly, like heat on a summer road, but this shimmer wasn't harmless—it whispered intent.
ENVIRONMENT STATUS: ACTIVE
CITY RESPONSE: CALIBRATING PLAYER PRESENCE
WARNING: UNMAPPED SECTOR – HIGH RISK
Reth moved silently alongside us, his face tighter than usual. The night events, the shifting streets, the adaptive Shades—they had left their mark. "We can't linger," he muttered. "The city's patience is finite. Sooner or later, it punishes hesitation."
Kael smirked, dry and humorless. "You mean, sooner or later, it kills us?"
I didn't answer. Instead, I focused, letting the adaptive perception run at a low hum. Shadows revealed themselves as anomalies—edges that didn't belong, corridors that bent subtly, entire buildings that existed only in the city's will and not in logic.
Then I saw it.
A figure in the distance, standing where it shouldn't be.
No movement. No shadows cast. But eyes—bright and white—fixed on us.
"Stop," I whispered.
Reth froze. Kael's crossbow came up instinctively. The figure remained still, unnervingly patient.
The system screamed internally, flashing warnings that I didn't even read. The Legacy Mark pulsed violently.
ENTITY DETECTED: UNKNOWN
THREAT LEVEL: EXTREME
BEHAVIOR: STATIONARY / OBSERVING
RECOMMENDATION: ENGAGE ONLY IF NECESSARY
I stepped forward, forcing my voice calm. "Who's there?"
No response.
The city itself seemed to hold its breath. Even the wind had stopped.
The figure shifted slightly. A step forward. Then another. Every movement precise, calculated, deliberate.
Kael muttered, "That's… not normal."
"No," I said, gripping my sword. "Nothing here is normal."
The figure's head tilted, just barely, and then it raised a hand. The motion was human—but the presence behind it was not. The weight of centuries, of something older than the empire, pressed down on us.
And the Legacy Mark reacted like it was trying to scream through my chest.
SYSTEM WARNING:
ENTITY INTERACTION EXCEEDS PARAMETERS
PLAYER STRESS LEVEL: CRITICAL
Reth moved first. "Fall back," he hissed. "We don't know what that is."
I nodded, but my legs felt rooted. There was… recognition. Not understanding. Not trust. Recognition.
The figure raised the hand again—and the city responded.
Streets warped instantly. Buildings around the plaza twisted inward like the walls themselves were trying to contain something. The ground beneath our feet shivered.
Kael yelled, "Move!"
We ran, dodging fissures that split the asphalt like hungry jaws, as the unknown figure glided effortlessly across the city, never touching the ground, always watching.
The Legacy Mark burned through my chest, forcing perception into overdrive. I could see what the system refused to acknowledge: pressure points, reactive pathways, weak intersections in the city's architecture that could collapse if manipulated—but only if timed perfectly.
"This way!" I shouted, dragging Kael and Reth down a narrow alley the system had tried to hide.
The figure followed—but slower. Methodical. Predicting.
Then Kael tripped.
A slab of concrete, hidden by illusionary shadows, threw him off balance. He slammed against the wall hard.
"Kael!" I cried, dropping to help him.
Reth blocked, weapon ready, but the figure accelerated. Its presence filled the alley, like gravity folding on itself.
And then I saw it clearly.
It wasn't just one figure. The shadows split and multiplied. For each step it took, dozens of ghostly echoes mirrored it, each one perfectly synchronized, perfectly lethal.
Kael's breathing was ragged. I felt sweat burn my eyes.
"This isn't a fight," I muttered under my breath. "It's a reckoning."
The alley twisted again, and I realized with a sickening certainty that the exit we were heading toward—the "safe route"—was a lie.
The city had changed it.
Behind us, the echoes closed in. Each step measured. Each breath of air pulled away.
Reth growled. "We can't outrun it!"
I tightened my grip on my sword. The Legacy Mark screamed now, a pulsing, radiant heat that almost made me drop to my knees.
Then the figure's lead apparition stopped at the edge of the alley. It raised both hands.
The shadows froze mid-step.
And it spoke.
Not through sound. Not words. Not voice.
Through thought. Directly. Into my mind.
"You were warned. Choose… or lose everything."
I felt Kael and Reth tense beside me. The system tried to intervene, flashing alerts, but I pushed through, recognizing a pattern I had never seen before.
The city itself had chosen to speak.
I swallowed. My fingers tightened on my sword hilt, but I knew instinctively: this wasn't just survival.
This was judgment.
And the first choice I made now…
Would decide everything.
The figure lifted a single hand, pointing at me directly, though I felt all its shadows pointing at us.
The alley's walls began to close in. Stone groaned. Dust fell from the ceiling.
Kael whispered, "Charisma… whatever it wants, it isn't waiting."
I met the figure's gaze—or what I assumed was its gaze—and realized:
This was no monster.
This was a test.
And for the first time, I truly understood why the city never forgave mistakes.
Because the next decision…
Might be the last.
The shadows surged. The walls moved. And the figure's command rippled through the alley.
Choose… or perish.
The Legacy Mark flared violently. The system screamed in protest.
And then, just as the shadows lunged—
Everything went black.