The mountains loomed like broken teeth against a sky bruised with twilight. The air here was thick, like breathing through damp cloth. Each step crunched over dead leaves and gravel, the sound swallowed by the unnatural silence of Veyruun's domain.
Snow swirled in harsh gusts, stinging their faces as they climbed the jagged path. The chill had grown worse since they'd crossed into the god's territory, as if warmth itself was something to be judged and found unworthy.
Lucio adjusted the rifle on his back, eyes sweeping over the shifting shadows. Jalen walked beside him, unusually quiet, his gaze distant but sharp. Kullen led the way, eyes forward, posture rigid. Nathan trailed behind, fingers twitching in constant rhythm as if winding time itself.
"Place feels... wrong," Nathan muttered, breaking the silence.
"That's because it's Veyruun's backyard," Kullen replied. "A constant state of decay. Judgment without mercy. Even the air feels like it's trying to smother us."
"Sounds like a party," Jalen said, grinning. But even his voice sounded muffled, like the world itself was swallowing his words.
They pressed on, the ground twisting into impossible angles, like stairs carved by a madman. The statues began appearing once they reached the higher peaks—figures frozen in agony, heads bowed, weapons shattered.
"Nice decor," Lucio muttered. "Looks like someone didn't appreciate their visitors."
"More like punishments," Kullen said. "Failed challengers, maybe. Or just mortals who wandered too far."
The wind howled, keening like the mournful cry of something hunted. Lucio glanced back, his eyes narrowing. He couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.
They came upon a plateau where the ground flattened, cracked and veined like dry skin. At the center stood a statue unlike the others—its arms raised, face twisted in rage. It bore a crude resemblance to a warrior, though time and decay had eroded its details.
The moment Lucio stepped forward, the ground quaked.
"Whoa, steady," Jalen said, planting his feet. "What the hell was that?"
Before anyone could answer, the statue lurched to life. Stone scraped against stone as its arms swung down with the force of an avalanche.
"Move!" Kullen shouted, diving aside.
Lucio rolled away just as the statue's fist slammed into the earth, sending shards of rock flying. He scrambled to his feet, fingers twitching toward his rifle, but he hesitated.
'No. I don't need it. Not for this.'
Lucio dashed forward, ducking under another crushing swing. His fists clenched, muscles tensed. As the creature's arm came down, Lucio slammed his fist into it with all his strength.
Stone cracked beneath his blow, but the impact was like punching a steel wall. His knuckles split open, blood dripping onto the frozen ground.
"Damn it…" he hissed, shaking his hand.
"Lucio, what are you doing?!" Nathan shouted, eyes wide. "Use your weapon!"
"Not yet," Lucio snapped, dodging a swipe aimed at his head.
He lunged again, this time aiming a brutal kick to the creature's knee. The stone chipped, but the force sent a jolt of pain through his leg.
"Shit… come on, you overgrown boulder…" Lucio growled. His muscles strained, bones aching with every hit.
The statue roared, its mouth splitting open to release a guttural, unnatural sound. Lucio stumbled back, eyes darting to the others. Jalen's fists clenched, Nathan's hands twitching with anticipation, Kullen's expression unreadable.
They were ready to step in. To help him.
But this was his fight.
He dodged again, slipping past a stone fist. He twisted his body, launching a powerful kick to the creature's side. His strength was real, his speed formidable. But none of it was enough.
The realization hit him like the statue's fists—brute force wasn't enough.
Lucio's hand flew to his rifle, yanking it free from his back. His fingers moved with a clarity he hadn't felt before—calibrating, adjusting, breathing.
He dropped to one knee, eyes locked on the creature's chest. The rifle pulsed in his hands, a faint glow emanating from the metal as if responding to his will.
Lucio fired.
The bullet tore through the air, crackling with raw energy. It slammed into the statue's chest, punching through stone like it was paper. The creature crumbled, its remains scattering across the plateau like broken glass.
Silence. Heavy. Absolute.
Then—
A voice. Deep and layered, like a thousand voices speaking through a single throat. The air trembled, the ground shuddering under the weight of it.
"Weakness…"
The word crawled into their skulls, echoing from within rather than without.
"You come to my domain seeking power? Foolish, pitiful creatures. Power belongs only to the worthy. To those who have broken themselves and remade themselves in the fires of ruin."
Lucio's heart thundered, his rifle trembling in his grip. The others looked around, eyes darting for the source. But the voice seemed to come from everywhere.
"Your trial has only just begun. I care not for your courage, your tenacity, your ambitions. Strength without judgment is mere brutality. Power without understanding is a disease."
The ground trembled again, cracks spiderwebbing out from beneath their feet. Statues all around them shifted, stone eyes turning to watch.
"Continue forward if you must. But know this—you will not leave this place as you are. The unworthy will rot. The ignorant will be consumed. And the arrogant…"
The wind howled, tearing at their clothes, drowning them in icy dread.
"The arrogant will be judged."
The voice faded, but its weight remained. An invisible hand pressing down on their souls.
"Yeah… that's definitely a god," Jalen muttered, his usual bravado replaced by something cold.
Kullen swallowed, eyes narrowed. "We keep moving. Whatever Veyruun throws at us next… we face it together."
But Lucio barely heard them. His fingers twitched over the rifle, the echo of Veyruun's voice still clinging to his thoughts.
The air grew colder as they pressed on. Not just from the snow swirling in harsh gusts, but something deeper—an iciness that sank into their bones, burrowing itself like an infection.
Lucio's knuckles throbbed. The skin had split wide open from punching solid stone, his fingers raw and stinging. Blood smeared across his hands as he tore a strip of fabric from his cloak and began wrapping his knuckles. The silence between them felt heavier now, Veyruun's voice still ringing in their minds like a death toll.
Each step crunched over ice-coated gravel. The ground itself seemed to resist their passage, frost creeping along their boots like greedy fingers. Statues lined the path, twisted forms caught mid-scream or reaching for salvation that never came.
"Gotta say… I'm starting to see why nobody's managed to kill this bastard," Jalen muttered, his voice sharper than usual.
"Most never make it this far," Kullen replied, his eyes scanning the horizon. "Or if they do, they're left shattered and broken by the time they reach him."
"Kind of a shitty design if you ask me," Nathan said, glancing at the statues. "Make your followers crawl through hell just to have a conversation."
"He's not interested in followers," Kullen replied, his voice strained. "Only survivors."
Lucio tightened the makeshift bandages around his hands, wincing as the fabric pulled at his wounds. His eyes remained locked on the statues—every one of them a testament to failure.
The path twisted ahead, curving along the edge of a sheer cliff. Far below, mist roiled like a living thing, swallowing the world in a gray abyss. The mountains stretched endlessly above them, jagged spires piercing the clouds.
But the land itself was wrong. The snow was dry, brittle, and crumbled into dust underfoot. Trees twisted in unnatural shapes, their bark cracked and blackened. Flowers wilted before their eyes, petals curling into ash.
"Everything's dying," Lucio whispered.
"No." Kullen shook his head. "Everything's being judged."
The wind shifted, carrying with it a low hum—a resonance that vibrated through their bones. It was then Jalen felt it—like a blade pressed to his throat.
A voice. But this time, it spoke to him alone.
"You hide yourself well… for a newborn god."
Jalen's steps faltered, but only for a moment. His expression tightened, eyes flickering from gold to violet and back again.
"Not hiding anything," he said aloud, drawing a glance from Kullen.
The voice continued, rich and thunderous, unbothered by Jalen's defiance.
"You may fool your companions, but you cannot hide your ascension from me. You do not belong here, fledgling. Your place is among the divine. Yet here you are, crawling through the dirt like a mortal."
Jalen laughed, a harsh sound that broke through the cold. "Funny. I don't remember asking for your opinion, rock-head. Maybe you're not as smart as you think."
"Arrogance. The first symptom of weakness." Veyruun's voice was like granite grinding against granite. "You are young. Unrefined. No better than the insects you travel with. You are not worthy of your own power."
"Maybe," Jalen admitted with a grin, his fingers clenching at his sides. "But here's the thing—you're not gonna get the chance to decide what I'm worthy of. Because your time's running out. And I'm the one who's gonna put your stone-cold ass down."
A rumble. Deep and guttural, like the earth itself was laughing.
"Your ignorance is amusing. A newborn god might as well be mortal. Whatever power you believe you possess is nothing but a flicker. Easily extinguished. Your time will end, just like your companions'."
Jalen's grin widened, but his eyes darkened. "If you think I'm afraid of you, then maybe it's you who's ignorant."
Veyruun's presence lingered, heavy and oppressive. The air grew colder, the wind turning sharp enough to sting their skin.
"I do not require your fear, child. Only your surrender. And when you fall… I will carve your arrogance into the stone, just like all who came before you."
The voice faded, but the chill remained. Jalen exhaled, his breath fogging in the air. The others watched him, their gazes questioning.
"Don't worry about it," Jalen said, his casual tone clashing against the grimness of his eyes. "Just the asshole reminding me how much he loves to talk."
"That didn't sound like just talking," Nathan said warily. "What did he say to you?"
"Nothing important." Jalen kept walking, his strides firm. "He's just pissed off 'cause I'm here to kick his teeth in."
"Still love your confidence," Lucio muttered. "Even if it's going to get us all killed."
"Not a chance," Jalen shot back. "We're taking him down. All of us."
The others followed, but an unease had settled over them like fresh snowfall. The silence grew thicker, the weight of Veyruun's judgment pressing down with every step.
They rounded another bend in the path, and the landscape shifted before their eyes. Where before there had been only crumbling stone and dead trees, now a settlement emerged from the frost-bitten earth.
A village clung to the mountainside like it had been carved from the rock itself. Wooden buildings with sloped, ice-coated roofs huddled together against the bitter wind. Smoke rose from crooked chimneys, pale and thin like ghosts reaching toward the sky. Lights glowed dimly through frosted glass, their warmth feeble against the encroaching cold.
The streets were narrow, twisted. Silent figures moved between the buildings, their faces hidden beneath hoods and scarves. Even from a distance, the town felt wrong. Not broken, but… abandoned. As if the people moving within it were shadows of the real thing.
"There," Kullen said, his voice low. "We might find shelter. And answers."
"Or more statues trying to rip our heads off," Lucio muttered.
"Either way, we're going," Jalen replied, his eyes still burning with the fire of defiance. "I've got a date with Veyruun's face, and I don't intend to be late."
They moved toward the town, the last traces of warmth stripped from the air as Veyruun's domain closed in around them.