As my eyes opened in the familiar throne room, the sheer grandeur of the space seemed to mock the turmoil churning within me. The beautiful pillars now loomed around us shimmering faintly under the golden light that emanated from an unseen source. The king's throne, a massive construct of gleaming black stone and gold filigree, sat atop a raised dais at the far end, exuding a dominance that could silence even the most rebellious of spirits. I looked around at my companions, noting their expressions as we all processed the traumas we had just endured. Each face told its own story,each one a testament to the cruelty of this system.
Shawn, ever the simpleton, wore an incredulous smile. It was as if he'd found some semblance of closure, some twisted solace in the horrors he'd faced. How quaint. How utterly naïve. He seemed almost giddy, his hands fidgeting with nervous energy. I wanted to despise him for it, for the audacity of finding comfort where I found none. But I couldn't. Who was I to judge? Here I was, holding myself above the rest, only for the system to drag me down from that imagined pedestal, forcing me to confront the fragility of my own existence.
Then there was the fallen archer. She looked the worst of all, her usual fierce demeanor replaced by an unsettling vulnerability. Her hands trembled as she gripped her bow, knuckles white with the force of her grip. Her eyes, usually sharp and alert, seemed haunted, darting around the room as if expecting an unseen assailant. Whatever she'd experienced, it had left her hollow. And yet, I couldn't shake the nagging feeling that her trauma paled in comparison to Anna's.
Anna,the healer, the cold and calculating one,was a shell of her former self. She wore the same blank expression I did, her face devoid of any emotion, but her eyes betrayed her. Those eyes, once so filled with cunning, now held a hollow, defeated look. The spark of intelligence, the sharpness that had always been her hallmark, was gone. She was a mirror of my own despair, holding herself together out of sheer necessity. She composed herself as best she could, standing straight and stoic, waiting for the king's next decree.
And then there was the king.
He sat upon his throne with an ease that spoke of absolute authority. In his hand, he held a parchment, which he regarded with a faint, almost amused smile. The king's presence was suffocating. He didn't need to posture or demand respect; it was woven into the very fabric of his being. He was the arbiter, the architect of our torment, and he reveled in the power he wielded over us. His role as our guide had long since lost its novelty for him. Now, it seemed, we were merely pawns in his game, a source of mild amusement to break the monotony of his eternal rule.
"Well, isn't this interesting," he began, his voice echoing through the cavernous hall. "One C grade, one B grade, and two A grades." He looked down at us, his piercing gaze scanning for any sign of reaction. His words hung in the air like a sword poised to strike. Of course, he knew everything. Hoping otherwise would have been foolish.
He continued, his tone measured but tinged with condescension. "While I know not the details of your traumas, I have a gauge of how harrowing they must have been. And I am impressed that the two with the highest level faced the worst. Not that it is surprising,merely unexpected."
The king's words were a trap, a lure designed to provoke a response, but none of us took the bait. The silence that followed was palpable, broken only by the faint hum of magic that permeated the room. For a fleeting moment, his mask slipped, revealing a flash of irritation. But it was gone just as quickly, replaced by a sly, cunning smile that sent a chill down my spine.
"Now, I will tell you all of the next task," he announced, leaning forward slightly. "As you all know, Mister A Grade will have to challenge a beast on his own." He gestured toward me, and I felt the weight of the room shift toward me. I braced myself against the oppressive atmosphere, unwilling to show any outward sign of weakness.
"Now, what you don't know," the king continued, his grin widening, "is that in order to punish the outlier, we had to lower the level of the beast the three of you will face. It will still be difficult, of course, but not impossible. As for you, Hudson, you will face a beast of similar level,alone."
The king's eyes locked onto mine, gleaming with sadistic delight. He was savoring this moment, imagining my defeat, my humiliation, perhaps even my death. My throat tightened, but I forced myself to hold my ground. Showing weakness now would only feed his contempt.
"Do you have any questions?" the king asked, his voice dripping with mockery. He knew as well as we did that no answer would alleviate the dread hanging over us. Still, he waited, reveling in the power he held over us.
I spoke first, my voice laced with barely contained venom. "How long is left in the tutorial?"
The king chuckled, clearly amused by my defiance. "Oh, Hudson," he said, his tone mocking. "Are you not going to show your superior any respect?" But he answered my question regardless. "The tutorial will end tomorrow. Some of you will leave with permission to meet your potential patron. Some of you won't."
Tomorrow. The word echoed in my mind like a promise and a curse. One more day in this accursed labyrinth. One more day of enduring this nightmare. I clenched my fists, forcing myself to focus on that glimmer of an endpoint.
Anna was the next to speak, her voice steady but tinged with a faint tremor. "Your majesty, what is the beast we are to fight?"
The king's gaze shifted to her, and for a moment, his expression softened. "See, Hudson," he said, looking back at me, "that is how you show respect." His tone was cutting, designed to belittle, but I met his gaze unflinchingly. He scoffed before continuing. "Originally, the design was for you all to face one of Arachne's children. Yet, due to a certain someone",he glanced at me pointedly,"that has been changed. The group of three will face a small flock of Stymphalian birds, whereas the troublemaker will face three Empousa."
Anna bowed her head in gratitude, murmuring a soft "Thank you, your majesty." The king's gaze swept over us once more, his expression unreadable.
"You have ten minutes to collect yourselves and prepare for the battle ahead," he declared, his tone final. With that, he leaned back into his throne, his attention seemingly elsewhere, as if we were already forgotten.
The countdown has begun, and the weight of the impending battle settled over us like a shroud. Ten minutes. Just ten minutes to steel ourselves against the horrors yet to come.
"Hudson, are you alright?" Shawn's voice was soft, tinged with genuine concern that grated on me more than I cared to admit. He pitied me, and that was something I could never stomach. Being seen as broken, fragile,it was unbearable. I could tell he meant well; that he was just being kind. But kindness like his only served to remind me of how far I'd fallen.
"Nah, don't worry, mate. I've lowkey gotten over the trauma," I replied, forcing a smile that I hoped looked convincing. The truth, though, was far messier. I wasn't sure I had "gotten over" anything. Facing the trauma had helped, ironically enough, but not in the way one might think. I hadn't accepted it, hadn't healed from it. I had simply decided I could never allow myself to reach that breaking point again. Ever.
Shawn chuckled, clearly relieved. "Hey, at least that's something, man." He gave me a nudge on the shoulder, his easy grin lighting up his face. "What about the Empo… Empa… whatchamacallit?"
His butchered pronunciation cracked me up. I let out a genuine laugh, the first in what felt like ages. "If you're talking about the Empousa, I just have to take it headfirst," I said, my voice steadier now.
"Good plan," Shawn said with a grin. "Just make sure it doesn't eat your face or something. I don't think they make prosthetics for that."
Before I could respond, Rebecca's sharp voice cut through the air. "You know, I'm still not over you leading us into danger, Mister A-Grade."
Her words dripped with disdain, and I turned to meet her glare. It wasn't the first time she'd taken a jab at me, but there was something different in her tone this time,a bitterness that ran deeper than usual.
"Hey, we lived, didn't we, Miss C-Grade?" I shot back with a smirk, feeling the corners of my mouth tug upward despite myself. I wasn't in the mood to argue, but Rebecca had a way of pulling me out of my thoughts, whether I liked it or not.
Her eyes narrowed. "Shut up, asshole. You get what you deserve."
"Aww, are you thankful that I lowered the level for you?" I teased, leaning back with a grin. I was having too much fun, I admit. There was nothing quite like getting under Rebecca's skin,especially since she took everything so personally.
Rebecca huffed and turned her attention back to Shawn, who was now attempting to mediate between us with his usual lighthearted humor. Their voices faded into the background as I noticed the healer,Anna,taking a seat beside me.
She folded her arms and tilted her head, her piercing gaze studying me. "So, do you want to share with a fellow A-Grade?"
"Not particularly. You?" I asked, throwing her question back at her. She shook her head, a wry smile tugging at her lips.
"Nope. Just thought I'd ask," she replied.
For a moment, we sat in silence, a rare pause in the chaos. Then Anna broke it. "So, are you prepared to meet your new potential patron?"
My brows shot up. "So you knew? Let me guess,I'm not the only one with a special new patron," I said, chuckling. Anna's smirk deepened, and she nodded slowly, clearly enjoying my reaction.
"You're not wrong," she said cryptically.
There was something calculating in her expression now, the kind of look that reminded me why I didn't fully trust her. She was sharp, strategic,a survivor, no doubt,but there was something crooked about her that set me on edge.
"Any advice?" I asked, half-joking.
She shrugged. "Don't die." Her smirk widened as she leaned in. "Seriously, though. I hope you get someone powerful as your first patron. Don't make this boring, Hudson."
"Noted," I replied dryly.
Her eyes gleamed with something unreadable as she continued. "You know, I don't want to see any of you three after this tutorial."
Her words caught me off guard, but I quickly recovered. "What, not even your own twin?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
For a brief moment, her face darkened, shadows flickering behind her eyes. But then her expression shifted, and a grin spread across her lips,a grin that sent a chill down my spine. "She's a liability," Anna said cheerfully, her tone oozing with twisted glee. "And more importantly, she's not someone I care for."
I stared at her, trying to process what she'd just said. There was no trace of remorse in her voice,only cold detachment.
"Right," I muttered, unsure of what else to say.
"Anyway," Anna said, standing up and brushing off her hands, "don't screw this up, Hudson. I'll be watching." With that, she disappeared into the crowd, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
The others had drifted off too, each preoccupied with their own worries and preparations. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. The Empousa awaited, and there was no room for hesitation. Not anymore.
As I stood there, I replayed the interactions in my mind,Shawn's kindness, Rebecca's bitterness, Anna's cold detachment. Each of them had their own struggles, their own battles to fight. And so did I.
"Time to finish this," I whispered to myself, stepping forward into the unknown.