CHAPTER 52: A FAMILIAR DEATH

The air thickened until it became almost unbreathable, heavy as though invisible chains pressed everyone toward the ground. Gasps erupted across the strange white void, each sound jagged and desperate, a chorus of lungs straining against an unseen weight. Even Avin—who tried to resist, who always tried to resist—felt his knees buckle and his body lean toward the floor as though gravity had multiplied.

And then, just as suddenly, it ceased.

The oppressive pressure lifted, like a great hand unclenching, and the void rang with the sound of hundreds inhaling at once. Students clutched their chests, gulping air in greedy relief. Avin himself nearly fell to all fours, panting, his throat raw.

Veyric took two slow steps forward. The crisp sound of his boots echoed strangely against the nothingness of the space, each step punctuated by the faint crackle of burning tobacco. He raised the cigarette to his lips, inhaled with deliberate calm, and then released a curl of smoke that hovered in the air like a languid serpent.

"Let us not make things complicated," he said, his voice cutting effortlessly through the crowd. The calmness in his tone was more chilling than a shout. "Keep your composure, children. You would not like me without composure."

The students fell utterly silent.

Avin’s chest rose and fell as he tried to quiet his own breathing. He did that? That crushing weight... that was him? The thought struck him hard. This man, casual cigarette in hand, could suffocate them all with no more effort than exhaling.

Veyric tilted his head, the smoke trailing lazily from his lips. "Good," he said softly, approving of the silence. "Then let us proceed."

Two more steps carried him forward, and though the void stretched endlessly in all directions, the students seemed to recoil, giving him more space as if his presence bent reality around him.

"The survival test," he began, "is exactly what it sounds like. To live. To endure. But merely surviving is not enough. You will earn your place by accumulating points." He tapped ash from his cigarette, as though this lecture were a routine chore.

"Monsters," he said, almost lazily, "are your quarry. Each one carries a value. Their strength dictates their worth. The deeper the shade of their color—their aura—the higher the danger, and the greater the reward. Green, easy pickings. Yellow, your ideal prey. Red..." He paused, his lips curling into a thin smirk. "Red is survival’s scythe, swinging close enough to shear the foolish from the strong."

A ripple of unease swept through the crowd.

"Your points," Veyric continued, "will be tallied by the belts strapped to your waists. Lose your belt, lose your points. Monsters may take them. So may your peers." His eyes glinted as the words lingered. "Yes, children. You may steal from one another."

Avin’s gaze dropped instantly to his own waist. The outfit he hadn’t noticed before was now glaringly obvious—a brown, sturdy uniform, simple but flexible, stitched for endurance rather than elegance. And around his waist sat a belt, stark red against the dull brown. His hand instinctively brushed over it, feeling the hard buckle pressed near the strap of his sword, Leo’s gift.

"Wow," he whispered to himself, careful to keep his voice low. Even so, his pulse quickened at the thought of losing that belt—of losing everything.

Veyric’s voice went on, each word slow and deliberate. "When a monster kills you, the belt falls. When another takes your life, the belt falls. You may return home, if the quota is already met. But do not deceive yourselves—dying is agony. The goddess Gaia spares your souls, not your pain. And if you die too soon... you are done. Your chance is gone."

Avin swallowed hard. Pain without death... that’s worse.

Veyric let the silence stretch for a beat before continuing. "The examination grounds are divided into three regions—water, sky, and land. Each holds creatures of all three colors. Choose poorly, and you will not live long enough to regret it."

His cigarette burned low, the ember glowing faint red as he inhaled again. "Remember this: this academy is not about friendship. This world is not about friendship. Allies are useful until they aren’t. Do not mistake attachments for survival."

Avin scoffed under his breath, though the sound caught in his throat. As if I have any friends to betray anyway.

Veyric’s eyes scanned the group. "We are out of time. With no further questions..." He flicked the cigarette to the void floor, where it hissed out of existence like it had fallen into water. "Let us begin."

Avin’s body tensed. No questions? He’ll disqualify anyone who dares ask...

Before the thought even finished, the world itself shattered.

The white void cracked like glass, breaking into four enormous shards that pulled apart. Avin felt his stomach drop as the floor disintegrated beneath him, and then he was plummeting, weightless, into blackness.

The silence of the void gave way to the rushing wind of freefall. Around him, students tumbled like scattered leaves, their screams vanishing into the roaring emptiness. Avin twisted, flailing at first, but there was no ground—only the endless pull downward.

And then light bloomed.

Beneath the veil of darkness, a world opened: green plains, rolling mountains, forests that stretched endlessly toward the horizon. It was serene, breathtaking, almost heavenly. The sunlight gilded the leaves until they gleamed like emerald fire. Avin’s throat caught in awe.

"Wow," he muttered, his words stolen by the rushing air. "If this place wasn’t crawling with monsters... it would be beautiful."

The ground rose fast. Faster. His stomach churned. And then—

THUD.

He hit face-first into a field of soft grass. The impact jolted his bones even though no pain followed, only the rattling of his insides. He rolled onto his back, coughing, dust and pollen clinging to his clothes.

"Shit..." he groaned, wiping spit from his lips. "This world is messing with my depth perception." He lay there a moment longer, staring at the endless blue sky. Despite the drop, despite the exam, the beauty above was undeniable.

But then something else caught his gaze.

Suspended in the heavens floated a massive translucent clock, faintly glowing with golden light. The hands ticked downward with eerie precision. Squinting, Avin caught the numbers as they aligned. Eleven hours. Fifty-nine minutes. Seventy seconds.

He blinked, his stomach sinking. "Wait... one hundred twenty-two hours? We’re supposed to last that long?"

A bitter laugh scraped from his throat as he pushed himself upright. His joints cracked in protest, but he forced himself to stand. He brushed dirt from his clothes, eyes still fixed on the colossal clock. "Okay," he whispered to himself. "Now what?"

He spun slowly, surveying the lush field, the distant trees, the mountain ridges like jagged teeth on the horizon. For a moment, it almost seemed peaceful. Almost.

Then—

Grrrk-kkk... chhk-chhhk.

A guttural growl rippled behind him, guttural and wet, laced with an unnatural clicking like the clattering of bone on stone.

Avin froze. His blood ran cold.

He didn’t need to turn. He already knew.

The sound alone was enough to dig into his memory, to drag him back into nightmare after nightmare. To that first hour in this world. To the dream that followed. To death itself.

Slowly, unwillingly, he turned.

There it was.

The abyss scorpion.

Its obsidian carapace glistened with a sheen like oiled steel, its surface jagged and ridged, as though the earth itself had forged its body. Eight legs splayed wide, claws clicking in sinister rhythm. Its eyes—dozens of them—glowed a baleful green, unblinking, fixed entirely on him.

And its stinger, long as a spear and curved with venom-dripping malice, arched high above its back, quivering with anticipation.

Avin’s throat tightened. His lips parted around a whisper.

"What an unsettling feeling of déjà vu..."

He swallowed hard, every nerve in his body screaming. If there was any creature in this world that despised his existence, that hunted him even beyond waking life, it was the abyss scorpion.

And now, once again, it had found him.